


The Otohime's Revenge

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Series: Pirateverse [1]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Drama, M/M, Smut, crackfic, wacky hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-02
Updated: 2009-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-02 05:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Fuji Yuuta rescues a shipwrecked Saeki, it touches off a series of events that neither of them could have anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the crack bunny that grew fangs, eventually evolved into a crack dragon, and took over my life. I have taken _substantial_ liberties with the period and setting; please don't trip over the anachronisms. Horatio Hornblower or similar tallship fandom this is not. This fic is AU, contains some violence, a few deaths, some angst, occasional smut, a fair amount of sap, and (with any luck) a whole lot of fun. Many thanks to **mercuria** for spawning the original idea, and to [Branch](http://archiveofourown.org/en/users/Branch) for cheering me on, and a lovely beta job.

** _Prologue_ **

He was in his cabin when the cry went up above, and was opening the door by the time Dan had scrambled over to knock on it and fetch him out. "What is it?" he asked, as he swept past.

Dan flattened himself against the wall to let him pass. "Shipwreck, sir," he said, scrambling after him. "A few hours old, by the looks of things."

"Hm. Run up the colors." He strode up to the main deck, and found his first mate leaning on the railing with a spyglass. "Well?"

Shishido straightened up and collapsed the spyglass. "Not another ship in sight, sir." His mouth quirked. "Saving the obvious."

"Bring us in." He braced himself on the foredeck as the shouts went up and their heading came around, bringing them closer to the sad affair floating low in the water. Most of the fires had gone out and all that was left was the debris of a hold spilled open and the last of a prow sliding under the water.

Another shout went up from his lookout, and Sengoku came tumbling down the rigging, scampering along the masts and dropping onto the deck with a grin. "Someone in the water, sir! There!" He pointed.

"Poor bastard," Shishido muttered, under his breath.

"Dunno, looks like luck might be with him today," Sengoku returned, cheerful.

"Back to your post, Sengoku."

"Yes sir, captain sir!" Sengoku went scrambling back up into the rigging.

He studied the speck in the water, slowly growing larger—a piece of spar, by the looks of it, with the hapless sailor clinging to it. "Shishido."

"Captain?"

"Put down the longboat, and see what salvage you can find." He frowned, stroking his chin. "And if he hasn't drowned yet, bring him in."

Shishido nodded. "Yes, sir." He loped off, yelling orders to the crew, and Yuuta settled his forearms on the rail, waiting to see what the sea had brought him today.


	2. Chapter 2

Saeki came to when he was dumped onto a deck, none too gently, and someone's foot nudged him in the ribs, rolling him over. _Safe,_ he thought groggily, and opened his eyes, blinking at the bright sunshine.

A grinning face leaned over him, teeth white against skin burned dark by the sun. "I dunno about this one, Captain. Might need to throw him back until he gets bigger."

Saeki blinked up at him, dazed and slow to take in the ragged, mismatched clothes of the men standing around him. "Nnngh?"

"Get him some water." A pair of bare legs moved off, and another set, clad in tight breeches and high boots, replaced them. "Get out of the way, Bane."

Bane gave him a last grin, and pulled away. The owner of the boots leaned over him, studying him. Saeki stared up at him in return, taking in the battered hat, the gold hoops in the man's ears, and the cool grey eyes studying him, deciding what to do with him—and behind him, the flag snapping merrily on the salt breeze, a white skull and crossbones on a black field.

"Oh," Saeki said, as the pieces clicked together. "You're _pirates_." And since that was the perfect end to what had been a very trying sort of morning, it seemed perfectly reasonable to choose that moment to slide back down into unconsciousness.

* * *

When he came to again, he found that he'd been slung into a hammock—in the crew's quarters, by the look of it—and he was being watched by a disinterested sailor (no, _pirate_) who was perched on a barrel and whittling with a wicked knife. "Oh. You're awake again." The man hauled himself to his feet. "Cap'n wants to see you."

Saeki stared at him. "He does?"

"Yep." The man tucked his carving away, and gestured with the knife. "Your choice whether you're walking or I'm dragging you."

Judging from the way the man hulked, he probably didn't care which option Saeki chose. "I can walk." Saeki rolled himself out of the hammock, and was very grateful to his knees for only wobbling and not betraying him by spilling him to the deck.

The pirate snorted, and gestured the way out, still with that evil knife, and Saeki threaded his way through the crowded quarters and up to the deck, and the afternoon's sun.

One of the deckhands—_pirates_—looked up from the sail he was mending. "About damn time he woke up. Captain was threatening to send someone down with a bucket of cold water." He grinned, showing off several teeth that glinted gold.

"Could've slept all day for all I care," his minder grunted. "Keep moving, you."

"Where am I supposed to be moving _to_?" Saeki inquired, suddenly very angry with everything from the loss of his ship and shipmates to the peremptory tone of his captors (for the love of God, _pirates!_).

"My cabin will do, I think," someone behind him said, sounding very amused. "Thank you, Akutsu. I think Dan can use a hand on the aft deck."

His minder—Akutsu?—grunted and slunk away, while the pirate mending sails saw that the amusement was at an end for the time being and returned to his work.

Saeki turned, slowly, to find himself face to face with the ship's captain—only a captain could stand with that kind of assurance, wearing a grin that only made Saeki's anger run hotter. "Well?" he said, cocking his head. "Are you just going to stand there?"

Saeki's hands curled into fists, and that only seemed to amuse the pirate further. "Come on," he invited, lifting his chin. "We might as well get this part out of the way."

"You think this is _funny_?" Saeki demanded, and charged him—or tried to charge him, at least, but the pirate stepped neatly to the side, and there was an outstretched boot in front of Saeki's feet and a hand around his wrist, helping him fall and twisting his arm behind his back.

Saeki hit the deck hard enough to knock the breath out of his lungs, and then there was a knee in the small of his back and a voice in his ear, low and dangerous. "You're angry, fine. You're grieving for your ship, and that's as it should be, but don't go making the mistake of blaming me for what's been done to you. I could have left you for shark bait, and it's my sufferance that's going to keep you from getting pitched over the side by my crew, because I can tell you now that they're not going to be best pleased with this little stunt of yours." The pirate twisted his arm a little tighter, and Saeki grunted with the pain. "You owe me your life. Don't forget it."

The pressure on his arm tightened until Saeki cried out, and then the pirate released him, rolling to his feet. "Now get up. You're not hurt."

Saeki pushed himself to his feet, slowly, arm folded in close to his chest and throbbing painfully, and became aware that there were half a dozen or more hostile pairs of eyes fixed on him. The sail-mender had put down his sail, and was trimming a fingernail with a knife that glittered, long and dangerous, in the sun.

The pirate captain let him soak that in, and then jerked his head. "Follow me," he said, and turned on his heel, striding for the cabins at the aft of the ship.

Saeki weighed his options—the retreating back, the crew watching his every move, the odds that he could move fast enough to accomplish anything—and followed after the man, promising himself that there would be other opportunities.

The captain's cabin was roomy, for such a small ship as this one, and better appointed than Saeki had expected, given the general shabbiness of the crew and even the captain himself, with his battered hat and ragged frock coat, and the fact that they were goddamned _pirates_.

The other man slung himself into a chair as Saeki slid the door shut behind him, and took off his hat, setting it on his desk amid the clutter of maps and books. Saeki was struck, suddenly, by how young he looked without it. The pirate gestured at the other chair, snugged up to the table. "Now, let's see if we can't have a civilized conversation, hm?"

Saeki shook his head. "I'll stand."

"Suit yourself." The pirate captain leaned back in his chair, sprawling his legs out and relaxing. "What's your name?"

"Saeki."

The pirate raised an eyebrow. "Just Saeki?"

"Just Saeki," he repeated, firmly, from between gritted teeth.

"Feisty one, aren't you?" He grinned. "But fair enough. I'm Yuuta, captain of the _Dancing Heron_."

"Never heard of you," Saeki told him, evenly. "Or your ship."

Yuuta blinked at him, and then laughed. "No? That's just the way I like it." He grinned. "Now sit your ass down, you stubborn bastard. I'm getting a crick in my neck looking up at you." He pointed at the other chair, imperious.

Unwillingly, scowling, Saeki sat, and folded his arms across his chest. "I don't know what the hell you want—"

"What I want is very simple." Yuuta leaned forward, planting his elbows on the desk and folding his hands under his chin. "And you can give it to me without any trouble to yourself." His eyes were dark, and intent. "I want information."

"And what happens if I don't know what you want to hear?" Saeki countered.

"I very much doubt that will happen." Yuuta's mouth curled. "Everyone knows something."

"And what happens if I don't want to tell you the something I know?" Saeki shot back.

Yuuta's mouth thinned. "I think we would both regret that, very much."

"Me more than you, I don't doubt."

Yuuta snorted, settling back in his seat, hooking an arm around the back of his chair. "What, aside from defending myself against a mostly-unprovoked attack, makes you think that I have any interest at all in harming you?"

Saeki couldn't help the short bark of laughter. "Aside from threatening me just now?"

Yuuta waved an impatient hand. "Immaterial. There's little benefit in rescuing someone just to kill him."

"What about killing someone after he's told you everything he knows?"

Yuuta laughed, short and harsh. "A waste." He sighed, and scrubbed a hand through his hair. After a moment's thought, he seemed to reach a decision. "We were caught in a squall, a week ago. I lost three good men to it. We've been running shorthanded anyway, and I need all the hands I can get." He looked up, eyes serious. "Fill one of those spots, until I can put ashore and find replacements for my men."

Saeki recoiled. "What are you, insane?" If nothing else, he couldn't fault the man for his nerve.

"If it eases your conscience, think of yourself as having been press-ganged," Yuuta snapped.

"I refuse," Saeki said, cold and flat. "I will not be a pirate."

"Damn it, man!" Yuuta slammed his fist down on the desk. "What makes you think—" He stopped himself, and took a deep breath, nostrils pinched and white with anger. "Saints preserve me from blind men and fools," he growled.

"Keep your saints busy, do you?" Saeki inquired, politely.

"Hmph." Yuuta glared at him. "I won't give passage to a man who can't pay his way, and refuses to work for it."

"Then I guess we have a problem, don't we?" Saeki bared his teeth in a grin that felt reckless.

Yuuta growled at him. "I have half a mind to put you back over the side—"

Someone knocked on the cabin door. "Captain?"

Yuuta straightened himself in his seat. "Come in."

One of the pirates sauntered in, bare arms covered to the shoulders with tattoos, and he saluted Yuuta with a lazy grin. "Looks like you two are enjoying yourselves," he noted.

Yuuta's mouth twisted. "If you want to call it that. What is it, Shishido?"

Shishido slanted at a look at Saeki. "Found something in the salvage." He dropped a box on the desk in front of Yuuta. "Damnedest thing I've ever seen. Can't figure out how to get it open—"

"You bastards!" Saeki was lunging forward, reaching for the box even as Shishido moved, catching him around the arms and holding him fast. He struggled, anger lending him strength in spite of his ordeal of a day, and Shishido swore in his ear, angry. "Give me that—you have no _right_—"

"Looks like you did find something interesting, Shishido." Yuuta picked up the box, turning it over his hands, bringing it up to peer at closely while Shishido struggled with Saeki. "Hmm." He prodded at the box, pressing at the whorls of the wood grain. "Excellent craftsmanship—ah. There we go." He pressed at the corners of the box, and the hidden catch gave way, letting the lid swing open.

"What is it—would you settle down, for God's sake—Captain?" Shishido asked, wrestling Saeki back into his seat.

Yuuta looked into the box, face gone still. After a long moment, he closed the box again. "It's nothing we need to concern ourselves with, Shishido." He looked up, meeting Saeki's eyes. "Personal mementos." He slid the box across the desk. "Better left in our passenger's care than ours, I think. Let him go, Shishido."

"Captain—" Shishido began to argue.

Yuuta's voice cracked like a whip through the air. "Do as I say, Shishido."

Grumbling so quietly that Saeki could barely hear him, Shishido released him and stepped back, eyeing him mistrustfully.

Slowly, breathing hard, Saeki reached out and took the box, eyes fixed on Yuuta.

"Was there anything else, Shishido?" Yuuta asked, holding Saeki's stare.

"...no, Captain." Saeki could feel the man's gaze flicking back and forth between the two of them.

"Return us to our original heading, Shishido."

"Yes, Captain." Shishido shuffled out, and closed the door behind him with a soft snick.

The silence drew out, thick and heavy, before Yuuta spoke again. "That belonged to your captain?"

Saeki's fingers tightened on the box. "Yes."

Yuuta nodded, mouth thinned to an angry slash. "Then you served on the _Otohime_."

"I was her first mate," Saeki said, lifting his chin, proudly, even though now he was first mate of nothing but scattered wreckage, and to a dead crew and a dead captain.

A muscle jumped in Yuuta's jaw. "Damn it," he said, softly. "God _damn_ it." He stood, and turned away from Saeki, staring out the windows at the _Heron_'s wake.

Yuuta's reaction made no sense, unless... Saeki frowned, slowly. "You knew the _Otohime_." Not a question, but a statement of fact.

"I knew her captain. He was a good man." Yuuta drew a deep breath, and set his shoulders straight, and turned back. He gripped the back of his chair and leaned over it. "Whose ship did you meet this morning, Saeki?" His eyes were hard, and angry. "I need to know."

Saeki looked at him, long and hard, before slumping in his chair. "I can't say for sure. She was on us before we knew what was happening. She was big, and fast." Saeki closed his eyes, remembering. "I never got a clear view of her name, but her colors—they were black, with a rose." The hiss of a breath drawn sharply made him open his eyes again. Yuuta had gone still, but his eyes were burning. "Do you know who—"

"Oh, I know exactly who," Yuuta breathed. "Who else would be able to take Tachibana and the _Otohime_, but Yukimura and the _Iron Rose_?" He slammed his hands down on the desk. "Fuck! Damn it, Kippei."

Saeki stared at him, feeling his brow starting to furrow. "...who the hell _are_ you?"

Yuuta gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Just another pirate, Saeki. Just another goddamned pirate." He moved, dropping himself into the chair and flipping open a book. "Now, as precisely as you can, tell me what happened this morning." He reached for a pen and uncorked a bottle of ink, and looked at Saeki, waiting.

Saeki frowned. "...funny sort of pirate to know Tachibana well enough to call him by name. Well enough to know him by a painting of his sister."

"Your point is well taken." Yuuta drew a breath. "But calling me a pirate is good enough for now." He shook his head. "I'll put you ashore next port we put into, but I can't tell you when that will be."

"...that's fine."

"It'll have to be," Yuuta told him. "Now. Tell me about their attack."

Saeki nodded, and settled back into his chair to arrange his thoughts, and make sense of the chaos at dawn. "The sun was just coming up, and it was foggy." His mouth twisted, remembering. "That's how she got so close, so fast, without us seeing her. Most of the crew was still asleep when they started firing on us."

Yuuta had been writing steadily as Saeki spoke, and looked up when he went quiet. "Not you?"

"I was on watch." Not a very good one, obviously. Saeki scowled at the memory of that ship, looming up big and sudden out of the fog, deathly silent until the first round of cannons boomed out over the water.

Yuuta's eyes were narrow and considering, looking at him. "I see."

Saeki looked away, eyes traveling over the room, studying the shelves with books and the clutter of personal items. "One of their shots was lucky, hit our hold and took out the powder. The whole thing exploded. I don't remember much after that. Too busy trying not to drown." To what purpose? The ship had still gone down, and no one else had survived.

"Probably not as lucky a shot as you think. At least one of Yukimura's crew is a genius for crippling other ships." Yuuta wrote busily for a moment, and then looked up. "Anything else?"

"They headed east, when they were done."

Yuuta made a note of that, as well, and continued writing. Saeki watched him, exhausted again by the retelling. "Anything else?" Yuuta asked again.

"No. Not that I can think of."

Yuuta sighed, and corked his ink, blowing on the page to dry the ink. "Thank you."

Saeki bowed his head over his hands, white-knuckled on the box. "There's nothing worth thanking me for."

Yuuta reached out and closed a hand on his shoulder. "Stop that," he ordered. "There's more to thank you for than you know."

Saeki looked up at him, and started to ask _what_ there could be, but someone rapped on the door.

Yuuta sighed and released him. "Come in."

The door opened, and a boy peered in. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but the cook wants to know whether you're eating in your quarters tonight or with us."

"With the crew tonight," Yuuta said. "Let him know, Dan."

"Yes, sir!" The boy closed the door, and they could hear him scampering away.

Yuuta sighed, and picked up his hat. "Let's see about finding a spot for you in the crew's quarters. Come on." He settled the hat on his head, and smoothed out his face until he was nothing more than the swaggering pirate captain.

Saeki stood, and nodded. "After you..." He hesitated, and added, "Captain."

Yuuta gave him a quicksilver smile, and led the way.

* * *

Saeki, standing behind Yuuta, eyed the long table, crowded around as it was with the rag-tag crew, and wondered where he was supposed to sit, especially with the flat, unfriendly looks he was getting.

"You made quite the impression on them," Yuuta muttered to him, out of the side of his mouth. He put his hands on his hips. "All right, boys, make room for our guest." There was a rustle of feet shuffling, but no gaps appeared in their formation. Yuuta huffed, impatient, and leaned forward a bit. "His name's Saeki, and he was first mate on the _Otohime_." His voice went low, and quiet, cutting through the sudden silence. "And I said to make room for him."

After a moment, a burly redhead with wild hair nudged his neighbor, who scooted down the bench. "He can sit here, Captain."

"Good." Yuuta surveyed the room. "I don't want any trouble. Understand?" The crew mumbled its assent. Yuuta studied them, and then nodded. "Good." He dropped himself into the chair at the head of the long table.

Saeki moved down to that open spot and slid into it, and the noise level picked up again as the cook's boys moved down the length of the table, dishing out the evening's stew.

"Amane," the redhead told him, under the slowly-rising din. "Friends call me Davide."

Someone leaned around Davide and introduced himself. "Kurobane."

Saeki looked at him. "...Bane."

The man grinned. "So you weren't as out of it this morning as you looked."

Saeki shrugged, and leaned back to let the cook's boy drop a ladle of stew onto his plate. "Not entirely."

"You were better off than I would have been," his other neighbor muttered, digging into his stew. "Yanagisawa," he said, around a mouthful of food.

Saeki picked up his fork as his stomach growled, reminding him that it'd been since last evening that he'd eaten, and tore into the stew.

"Good appetite," Davide noted.

"Hard day," Saeki grunted, between mouthfuls.

Bane leaned around Davide. "What happened to the _Otohime_?" he asked.

Saeki stared down at his plate. "Yukimura," he said. "The _Iron Rose_."

Beside him, Davide let loose with a soft string of expletives, and Yanagisawa's fork clattered to his plate. "You poor bastards," he said.

Saeki made himself shrug, again, and continued eating, chewing mechanically.

"Huh. No wonder the captain's keeping you around." Someone leaned across the table and snagged the bread off Davide's plate. Saeki looked up to find another redhead grinning at him. "Sengoku."

Saeki nodded, while Davide growled and demanded his bread back and Sengoku laughed in his face, and wondered just what sort of people he'd fallen in with, and just who the hell Yuuta was.

* * *

Saeki had never been on a ship as a mere passenger before; he found himself at loose ends, watching the crew work from the vantage point he'd found in an out-of-the-way corner on the aft deck.

It was easy to see, now, that the _Heron_'s general shabbiness was due in no small part to the squall her captain had mentioned—a larger part of the crew's duties seemed to revolve around making small repairs, mending sails and performing acts of minor carpentry. No one seemed to begrudge him his leisure, either, as they worked around him; he had been expecting at least a few nasty looks on that account, but apparently Yuuta's edict that there be no trouble held, even for a passenger who couldn't pay his own way—

"Penny for your thoughts." The coin landed in Saeki's lap, startling him, and he looked up to see Yuuta leaning on the railing, studying him.

"You have a disciplined crew," Saeki said, picking up the coin and flipping it through his fingers.

Yuuta snorted. "They ought to be, considering. I like a tightly-run ship."

Saeki studied the activity on the main deck—Davide and Bane, tidying away some mended sails; another sailor, whose name he'd forgotten, swabbing the deck. "So did my captain."

"I know." Yuuta's voice was quiet enough that it only barely reached Saeki's ears. "Waste of a fine crew, and a fine man."

Saeki looked back at him, and it was on his tongue to ask him just _who_ he was, to speak so familiarly of Tachibana. Instead he made a noise, agreeing. "I didn't ask, yesterday. You said it would be some time before we put into port. Where are we bound?"

"To meet someone," Yuuta said, with a vague gesture.

"Heading south?" Saeki frowned, ransacking his mental charts of the waters ahead of them. "There aren't any ports in that direction, not for days."

Yuuta's mouth quirked. "So?" he asked, and pushed away from the railing.

Saeki tried to protest that non-answer. "But—"

Yuuta waved a lazy hand as he went to relieve the man at the helm.

"Don't go expecting to get a straight answer out of _him_." Saeki looked down; Sengoku set the barrel he'd been carrying down, and perched on it. "He keeps secrets for the fun of keeping secrets."

"I've been getting that impression." Saeki tilted his head. "Do _you_ keep secrets for the sake of keeping secrets?"

Sengoku grinned at him. "Sometimes. Sometimes not. Depends on what you want to know."

Saeki took a deep breath, and another, and bit down on his temper. "Do you know where we're going?"

"Can't say." Sengoku's grin turned even wider. "The captain doesn't tell me these things."

Saeki couldn't quite repress the growl, and didn't care to besides. "Do you have an idea of where we might be going?" he gritted out.

"Probably shouldn't tell you," Sengoku said, grinning even harder.

"...you're kind of a bastard, aren't you?" Saeki asked him, slowly.

"When I want to be, yep." Sengoku hopped down from his barrel and swung it up onto his shoulder as Shishido approached. "Back to work for me, then. Better luck next time, Sae." He strode off, whistling.

Shishido paused on the deck below Saeki and looked up at him. "Been at you, has he?" he asked, a wry smile tugging at his mouth. Saeki didn't trust himself to speak, so he just nodded, quick and sharp. The _Heron_'s first mate surprised him by laughing. "It's his way of being friendly. Try not to let it get to you."

"You don't ask for much, do you?" Saeki growled.

Shishido just grinned and walked away.

Saeki growled again, wordless, and wondered yet again whether it wouldn't have been more of a mercy to have drowned.

* * *

His second day aboard the _Heron_ found him wandering below, still at loose ends and bored, until he came to the galley. The cook took one look at him, shook his head, and sat him down with a bushel of potatoes and a knife to peel them with. It was a measure of how bored he was that Saeki accepted the work meekly, peeling potatoes and listening to Nomura. The constant conversation, bouncing from topic to topic, kept him distracted. It was even possible, if one listened carefully, to pick out interesting facts from the stream of chatter, as Nomura touched on the captain's moodiness lately and how long it'd been since they'd been ashore and of course he couldn't be expected to produce decent food without fresh ingredients, so at least it wasn't _his_ turn to host things—and then he shut himself up, changed the subject, and wouldn't be steered back no matter how carefully Saeki asked his questions. Eventually, Nomura retreated to the other end of the galley, muttering among his pots and pans, and that left Saeki alone with his thoughts and the potatoes.

"You've got a brain, Koujirou, so use it," he said to the potatoes, and frowned at them as he worked, and thought, and turned over the pieces of his puzzle. The ship was heading south, to meet someone—there wasn't much to the south worth speaking of, unless a person counted the countless unnamed islands, too small to support anything but scrubby bushes and the occasional smuggler—oh. _Oh._

He dropped his knife into the pile of potato peelings and had to fish it out. Smugglers. That made more sense than pirates, didn't it? It still didn't make the fact that Yuuta had known Tachibana and respected him make any more sense—hell, it didn't make the crew make sense, either—but it went further than anything else had. And if they were heading towards a rendezvous, that made the cook's mention of hosting make sense, too.

"Are you going to stare at that potato all day long, or are you going to peel it?"

Saeki shook himself out of his reverie. "Sorry." He bent back over his potatoes.

"You're an odd one," Nomura remarked, and returned to what he was doing.

* * *

He found that the crew's quarters tended towards the boisterous in the evenings, between the games of cards and dice, the occasional argument, and the boasts being traded back and forth. The _Heron_'s crew welcomed him into the uproar easily enough, but in spite of the rough welcome, he couldn't help feeling like an outsider—especially after spending a day doing practically nothing—the tasks Nomura gave him barely counted—while the rest of them worked. After a pair of awkward evenings, he escaped the noisy atmosphere below to spend his third evening on the _Heron_'s deck. The evening watch ignored him, and it made a peaceful end to the day.

He liked it well enough to repeat the experiment the next evening, and the next, making his way to the stern and nodding to Davide, who was at the wheel, who returned the nod with an affable wave, and settled himself at the stern, dangling his legs over the side and resting his chin on the railing. The last of the sun had already slipped below the horizon, and the sky was turning dark rapidly. Saeki sighed, and watched the colors change, and let himself think about nothing at all.

A voice interrupted him. "Company below not to your liking, Saeki?"

Saeki looked at the knees just visible in his peripheral vision. "It's a good place to be."

"Mm." Yuuta dropped himself to the deck, an arms-length away, and mimicked Saeki's posture. Only then did he look at Saeki. "You mind?"

Saeki rolled a shoulder up in a half-hearted shrug, and looked out over the water. "It's your ship."

Yuuta snorted; Saeki could feel the eyes on him. "I'm going to take that as a yes," he said, finally, and started to swing himself back to his feet.

"You don't have to," Saeki said, with another one-shouldered shrug. "I'm just not very good company."

"I hadn't noticed." But Yuuta settled himself again, and folded his arms on the rail, and quiet settled over them. Saeki half-expected him to say something that would break the silence, but Yuuta just stared at their wake, a frown wrinkling his forehead.

This was the first time Saeki had had the chance to study him, so he made the most of the opportunity. With him at rest, it was easier to see what Yuuta's general flurry of activity kept obscured—that he was young, probably younger than Saeki himself (if he was any judge)—and handsome, too, with even features that were finer than Saeki would have expected from an ordinary sailor.

Yuuta startled him by turning suddenly and meeting his eyes. "I puzzle you, don't I?"

"You don't fit," Saeki told him, surprised into candor.

"I don't?" Yuuta lifted an eyebrow at him.

Saeki took that as an invitation to expand on the subject. "You don't." He waved a hand, the gesture encompassing the whole ship. "Nothing does, really, but you fit even less than the rest of it does. You're not pirates—" Just following the conversations between the other crewmembers had confirmed that much for him. "You're _acting_ like smugglers—" Yuuta's other eyebrow went up. "—what, I've been in the hold, I can see that it's full of rum, and there's nothing but smuggler's islands where we're going. I'm not _stupid_."

"I can see that you're not," Yuuta agreed, gravely enough, although the corners of his mouth were twitching slightly.

Saeki narrowed his eyes at him. "It still doesn't fit," he said. "You don't fit. You're not—" He paused, searching for the right way to put it. "—Not rough enough around the edges."

"Maybe I'm just the black sheep of an upstanding family," Yuuta suggested, with a grin that was crooked. "Ran away to sea when I was a boy, breaking my dear mama's heart and causing my father to disown me, the despair of my family's honor and the talk of the town to this very day. Eh?"

Saeki frowned. "All that, just to become a _smuggler_?"

"What, you think that runaways get to become captains in the navy?" Yuuta's smile was still crooked. "Or do I just seem to be that kind of lucky?"

"I don't know what you are," Saeki retorted, "other than a damn riddle."

"And that's as it should be." Yuuta turned his gaze back to the horizon, which was falling into darkness fast. After a while, a question floated through the gathering darkness. "What about you? Why are you at sea?"

"It's the family trade. My father was a sailor, and his father before him... as far back as any of us can remember."

"A fine tradition," Yuuta murmured, and it was too dark to be able to tell by his expression whether that solemn tone was genuine or just teasing. "You had some schooling, by the sound of it."

"Enough." His mother had insisted that her children should know more than just the sea, which had led to long seasons in the classroom, away from the open water.

"Always a good thing, that." Yuuta shifted himself, and rested his chin on his folded arms. "I hear that Nomura appreciates the extra help he's had, these past few days."

"It passes the time," Saeki said, carefully.

Yuuta lifted a shoulder, half-shrugging. "I suppose it does. I'd get bored pretty fast."

"Potatoes aren't known for being challenging, no," Saeki agreed.

"Mm." When Yuuta spoke again, Saeki could tell that he was choosing his words with care. "If a person wanted something a little more challenging, I expect that he could ask, and Shishido could find something or another for him to do. Just to pass the time, of course."

"It's been my experience that most officers can do that," Saeki murmured, finding it hard not to smile. "A person would do well to remember that."

They lapsed into silence again, until it was too dark to see anything but the stars glittering above them. Presently Yuuta sighed, and swung himself to his feet. "Good night."

"Good night," Saeki murmured.

Yuuta paused, as if he was going to say something, but didn't; after a moment, Saeki could hear his boots striding away over the deck, and Davide's cordial good evening to him. Not long after, the light from his cabin windows spread out across their wake, warm and golden.

Saeki didn't think any more of it until the next morning, when he hesitated between the galley and the decks, and chose the decks. Shishido put him to work without comment, and Saeki retired to his spot at the stern after a day of satisfyingly hard work. Yuuta joined him again, settling himself next to Saeki without a word as the sun went down, but didn't offer to make conversation. They sat together, quiet, until darkness had fallen and Yuuta bade Saeki a pleasant evening and went below.

He was already there when Saeki came up the night after, and Saeki hesitated a moment before swinging himself into his spot next to Yuuta. Yuuta didn't acknowledge him any more than Saeki had acknowledged him the night before, leaving Saeki to wonder about the odd company Yuuta offered him.

"You're not happy on this ship, are you?" Yuuta's question was sudden, and unexpected.

Saeki turned his head, looking at Yuuta's profile; the captain was staring at their wake, expression unreadable. "Not especially," he said, finally.

"What will you do, when we put you ashore?" Yuuta sounded mildly curious.

Saeki turned his gaze back out to see, and rested his chin on his forearms. "Find Tachibana's family, so I can return what's rightfully theirs, and let them know what became of him. And after that, find a new ship." And maybe, somehow, find a way to avenge the _Otohime_.

"That's very admirable of you," Yuuta murmured.

"It's the least I owe him."

"It's still admirable," Yuuta said, quietly. "You must have thought highly of Kippei."

"He was a good man, and a good captain." Saeki slanted a glance at Yuuta. "How did you know him?"

Yuuta's jaw tightened in the fading light. "I sailed for him, a long time ago."

Saeki found that he was staring. "You did?"

Yuuta shrugged. "I did. He was much kinder to a runaway brat than I had any right to expect. Gave me my start." He sighed. "That was when he was captain of the _Cormorant_."

Saeki frowned, trying to fit this new puzzle piece into place. It certainly made Yuuta's reaction to the _Otohime_'s loss make more sense. "I... hadn't realized."

Yuuta's mouth twisted up. "I hadn't said."

"You don't say much," Saeki muttered, and that provoked a bark of laughter from the captain. "It's true."

"I wasn't going to argue the point." Yuuta shook his head. "How long did you sail with him?"

"Two years," Saeki murmured. "He promoted me to first mate when Kamio took a ship of his own."

"Ah. You were with him for some time." Yuuta lapsed into silence.

Saeki studied the water. "Not long enough."

"Nothing lasts," Yuuta told him, and surprised him by reaching over to grip his shoulder. "All you can do is enjoy what you have, while you can."

Saeki held his gaze. "Wise words."

Yuuta's mouth quirked. "Kippei's, not mine," he said, and swung himself to his feet. "Good night."

"Good night."

Yuuta moved away, passed a few words with Davide at the helm, and retired to his cabin. Saeki studied the fading light.

"Captain's really taken a shine to you, hasn't he?"

Saeki twitched as Davide's comment floated through the gathering darkness. "You make a habit of eavesdropping?"

"Nope, but if you're going to talk in front of me, I can't help what I hear." Davide's chuckle was rusty. "Or am I wrong?"

Davide had an unfortunately good point, and Saeki huffed to himself. Davide's laughter rolled through the darkness, rich and amused. "You're tetchier than Akutsu on short rations, aren't you?"

"Only when I'm being made sport of," Saeki told him.

Davide laughed again. "Lucky for you that you're not going to be signing on permanently, then. Pity for the rest of us."

"You'll find someone to replace me, I don't doubt." Saeki levered himself to his feet and ambled closer to where Davide was minding the helm.

"Oh, probably. There're plenty of sailors out there." Now that he was closer, he could see Davide's dismissive gesture. "Fewer good ones." He paused. "None that I can think of that he's so free with."

Saeki peered at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think..." Davide's voice was quiet, meditative, "that it's a hard business, being the captain. Kind of a lonely one, too. Especially for him, more than most." He shrugged. "And it's been a while since anyone caught his interest. And right now, he could use a friend, more than you know. That's all."

"Why are all of you so hell-bent on being cryptic?" Saeki asked, with a crossness he didn't really feel, shying away from what common sense had already told him—that Yuuta was showing an unusually active interest in a sailor he'd rescued from drowning.

"Because you're an outsider," Davide said, calmly. "There're things you can't know until you're one of us, and things that're worth our lives if the wrong ears hear them. Don't get me wrong, now," he said, as Saeki stiffened. "Who you are and who you served with, that goes a long way with the captain, and that's good enough for the rest of us, but if he doesn't want you knowing the rest of it, not a one of us is going to tell you a damn thing. And that's just the way it is."

"I see."

"No, you probably don't, not yet. Stick around a while and you might," Davide told him.


	3. Chapter 3

It was midmorning the next day when the shout went up from the crow's nest that a sail had been spotted on the horizon. They sent Dan scrambling for Yuuta, and the crew—Saeki with them—went tense on the deck, alert and poised to pile on more sail and run. Saeki looked up at their colors—still the skull and crossbones of a pirate ship—and prayed that the sail didn't belong to one of the navy's ships.

"She's coming about," Sengoku yelled down to them, as Yuuta strode on deck. "Looks like the navy, Captain!"

The rest of them were moving almost before Yuuta called the orders to add more sail and bring their heading about, and the _Heron_ surged ahead in the waters as the wind filled her sails.

Yuuta stood on her deck, calm amid the chaos and shouting of his crew; Saeki couldn't help but respect his nerve, especially as the navy's ship closed the distance, slowly to be sure, but steadily enough that by mid-afternoon, Sengoku yelled down, "The _Dragonfly_, Captain!"

Next to Saeki, Davide groaned. "We're in for it now."

"Why?" Saeki asked, a cold chill of sweat washing down his spine. The navy _hanged_ pirates.

"Captain's got a history with the _Dragonfly_," Davide grunted.

"Save your breath," Bane put in. "You're going to need it."

He was right; the next few hours were grueling as they made the fullest possible use of the wind, trying to outrun the other ship—sometimes drawing ahead, sometimes not, until late in the day, when Yuuta laughed, and called for them to haul in the sail.

"Is he _crazy_?" Saeki, drenched in sweat, demanded of Davide.

"He's a lunatic," Davide agreed, cheerfully, hauling on a rope.

Saeki stared at him, baffled, until Shishido shouted at him to get moving.

The billowing canvas was got under control in short order, and their momentum slowed dramatically. It wasn't long before the _Dragonfly_ was close enough that the activity on her decks was clearly visible.

Yuuta dropped down to the main deck. "Raise our colors," he called, grinning like a madman as his crew leaned on barrels and over the rails, panting. "Weigh anchor!"

"Aye, Captain!"

"What in the hell good is _that_ going to do?" Saeki asked, bewildered, as they lowered the pirate flag and changed it for the royal flag.

Davide laughed at him. "You'll see."

The _Dragonfly_ drew alongside them, decks swarming with sailors. "Prepare to be boarded!" came the cry, and Saeki watched in disbelief as Akutsu and Bane helped maneuver the plank into place, while Yuuta stood back, arms folded across his chest.

The _Dragonfly_'s captain was the first across, grinning just as broadly as Yuuta himself. "It's not like you to give up so easily," he said.

"Just showing respect for my elders," Yuuta snorted, and pulled him into a rough embrace. "You're slowing down in your old age, Shuusuke."

"Bite your tongue," the other captain retorted, "or I'll give you the thrashing you deserve."

"You'll do no such thing," Yuuta said, grinning. "Will you take supper with me tonight?"

"Of course not. It's my turn to play host," the other captain said. "My cook's been in his galley since this morning, in anticipation." He clapped Yuuta on the shoulder. "Come along, and bring Shishido with you. It's been too long since I've seen him scowling at me."

Yuuta grinned. "What, aren't you afraid he'll spoil the meal?" He gestured at Shishido, who was glaring at the other captain fiercely. "Actually, I have another guest, too, if your cook won't object?"

"The more the merrier," the _Dragonfly_'s captain said.

"Glad to hear it." Yuuta turned away from him. "Davide, you have the helm. Sae, grab your gear, you're eating with us tonight."

Saeki gaped at him. "...what gear?" he managed, finally. "I don't have any—" Although he supposed that if he counted Tachibana's belongings—

"Grab what you have," Yuuta repeated, while the _Dragonfly_'s captain looked at him with sharp, curious eyes. Yuuta raised an eyebrow as Saeki hesitated. "Now, perhaps?"

Saeki scrambled down to the crew's quarters to retrieve the meager handful of his belongings, and back up to the deck, where the _Heron_'s crew had dispersed, and the two captains and Shishido waited for him. The _Dragonfly_'s captain escorted them over to the other ship, and conducted them to the stateroom, where a collection of officers waited for them, and dinner was already laid out for them. "I believe some introductions are in order, Yuuta?" he asked, while a place was made for Saeki.

Yuuta's mouth quirked. "I suppose." He gestured at Saeki. "This is Saeki. We happened upon the wreckage of his ship and fished him out." He looked at Saeki, and his expression was shuttered as he made the next set of introductions. "This is Fuji, captain of the _Dragonfly_."

He continued on with his introductions, naming the other officers with the ease of long familiarity, but Saeki didn't hear them over the roaring of the blood in his ears. Fuji. Fuji Shuusuke, whose wife's portrait was in the box in his arms. He looked to Yuuta, who gave him the barest fraction of a nod.

"I'm sorry for your misfortune," Fuji told him, eyes sharp and curious. He looked at Yuuta. "And I trust you didn't bring him along for casual reasons, Yuuta?"

"Business can wait until after we've eaten," Yuuta told him. "Let's not offend your cook by failing to appreciate his hard work."

Fuji frowned, but nodded. "Fair enough," he agreed.

An extra chair had been found for Saeki, and an extra place setting, and he quickly found himself seated between Shishido and one of Fuji's officers, surveying more cutlery than he knew what to do with. Fuji and Yuuta struck up a lively conversation about the chase the _Heron_ had led the _Dragonfly_ on, and whether Yuuta would have outrun Fuji or not.

At least, Saeki brooded, he understood why Yuuta would have brought him along for this meeting (although why a navy captain should be so friendly with a smuggler, he didn't know, and with his luck, he wasn't likely to find out), although he wasn't looking forward to the prospect of telling Fuji what had happened to his brother-in-law.

The meal dragged on, and on—the _Dragonfly_'s cook apparently _had_ put a great deal of effort into it, and none of the officers seemed inclined to rush as they laughed and talked around him. Even Shishido relaxed his frown enough to exchange words with his neighbor while Saeki picked at his food, wholly out of place and dreading what was to come. Eventually, though, the plates were cleared away, and Fuji leaned back in his chair. "So," he said. "To business."

"To business," Yuuta agreed. He reached into his coat and produced a portfolio. "I had hoped to give you a better report than this." He slid it across the table.

Fuji tapped his fingers on the leather. "Has it been bad?"

"The past two weeks have been hell," Yuuta said, blunt. "I lost three men to a storm, and we took more damage than I would have liked." Yuuta glanced down the table, eyes flicking over Saeki, and then he looked back to Fuji. "And I mean to take the _Iron Rose_." He said it flatly, mouth set in a stubborn line.

Silence greeted his declaration, until the officer to Saeki's immediate left snorted. "When you overreach yourself, you don't do it by halves," he drawled. "Stick with running rum and spying, and leave Yukimura to those who can handle him."

"No. Not this time." Yuuta's voice was cold. "I've handed Yukimura to the navy three times now, and he's slipped through your fingers each time. I'm not going to let you botch it again."

"Yuuta, I know how you feel about Yukimura—" Fuji began.

"Shuusuke, he got Kippei," Yuuta snarled, and pointed at Saeki. "He was the _Otohime_'s first mate."

Fuji's face went white. "No."

Saeki pushed his chair back from the table, and reached under it for Tachibana's box before walking the few feet around the table to lay it in Fuji's hands. "I'm sorry," he said, into the stillness of the room.

Fuji looked at the box, and stroked his fingers over the polished grain as Saeki made his way back to his seat. "What," he said, softly, "am I going to tell Ann?"

"You're going to tell her that I'm going to give her Yukimura's head on a platter," Yuuta said. "And if I have to sail to hell and back to do it, I will."

Fuji looked up. "You'll do no such thing," he snapped. "I've already lost one brother to him, Yuuta. I'm not going to let him take you from me as well."

Saeki stared, as the final bit of the puzzle clicked into place.

"I am tired of losing people to him, Shuusuke," Yuuta hissed. "And if you won't help me, then I'll do it myself."

"I'll order you not to," Shuusuke retorted, eyes glittering blue and hard. "I still outrank you, little brother—"

"Then I'll resign," Yuuta said, calmly, "and if you can catch me, you can hang me for treason, or for smuggling, or anything you damn well please, and I'll laugh my way to hell, knowing that Yukimura'll be there to greet me."

One of Fuji's officers cleared his throat. "Are you that willing to throw away the lives of your men?"

"My men all know what they signed up for, Kikumaru," Yuuta snapped. He smiled, brief and humorless. "But I'll be sure to remind them. I wouldn't drag any man into this against his will."

"Damn it, Yuuta—"

Yuuta cut his brother off, again. "You've never managed to out-stubborn me, Shuusuke," he said. "Not once."

Fuji stared at him for a long moment. "No," he said, finally, heavily. "I haven't." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "For God's sake, tell me that you have a plan, at least?"

Yuuta's smile was quick, and fierce. "Oh," he said. "I've _got_ plans."

* * *

There were arguments, of course. Fuji's officers were not nearly as insane as Yuuta, nor as willing to indulge that insanity as Fuji. Yuuta laid out his plans for them, and calmly countered their objections. Saeki, forgotten amid the debate, admired the thought Yuuta had obviously put into the matter. Nothing that Fuji or his officers threw at him fazed him. Watching the argument, Saeki was reminded of a street preacher he'd seen once—Yuuta's eyes burned with the same sort of zeal that man had possessed.

The arguments wore on, and on, until Yuuta—who was every bit as stubborn as he had claimed to be—wore his opponents down, either into accepting his schemes or into simply giving up. At length, Fuji's first mate, the last hold-out, sighed, and looked at his captain. "There is going to be hell to pay if the commodore hears about this."

"Let me be the one to worry about Tezuka, Oshitari," Fuji said. His smile was crooked. "He's had his own dealings with Yukimura. He might not be as opposed to this as you'd expect."

"On your own head be it," Oshitari muttered, throwing up his hands. "You're all mad."

"It runs in the family," Yuuta said, and sat back with a satisfied smile.

"I wouldn't let Mother catch you saying that," Fuji muttered. He rubbed his eyes. "Gentlemen, I propose that we adjourn for the evening."

"Thank God," Kikumaru groaned, hauling himself to his feet and stretching.

Saeki sighed as he stood as well, ready to make his way back to the _Heron_ as Fuji's officers filed out of the cabin to seek their berths.

"Stay a moment, Saeki," Yuuta said. "Shishido, I'll be just a bit longer."

"Aye, Captain," Shishido said, and dipped his head to Saeki before ducking out into the night.

"This can't wait, Yuuta?" Fuji asked, wearily.

"Be patient with me for just a bit longer." Yuuta's smile was tired. "I'm afraid I pressed Saeki here into serving on my ship. He's a bit too honest to make a good smuggler, but he's a good sailor. Can you find a spot for him in your crew? You'll see more upstanding ports than I will, and sooner, and he's interested in finding another ship to serve on."

Fuji turned his eyes to Saeki; they were still sharp, even with the lines that weariness and grief had etched around them. "Of course," he said. "That won't be difficult at all."

"Thank you, Shuusuke." Yuuta stood, and stretched his back. "Now that that's settled—"

Saeki cleared his throat. "I'd prefer to remain on the _Heron_," he said.

Yuuta stared at him. "You _would_?" he asked, blankly.

"You want a crew that knows what it's signing on for," Saeki said, after a moment's hesitation. "I know as well as anyone else what you're proposing to do. I'll help. If you'll have me."

A frown wrinkled Yuuta's forehead. "...all right," he said. "I'd be a fool to turn down an offer like that. Shuusuke, I apologize for your time."

"It's nothing, Yuuta." Fuji shrugged. "Now. I'd like to get some sleep this evening."

Yuuta nodded. "Of course."

Fuji saw them back to the deck, where Shishido and a sailor waited, huddled in a circle of lantern light. Saeki joined Shishido while the brothers said their goodnights.

"You're coming with us?" Shishido murmured, lifting an eyebrow at him.

"Of course I am," Saeki said.

"Huh. I thought you'd stay." Shishido shrugged, as Yuuta joined them, and Fuji took the lantern from the sailor to light their way as they clambered down a rope ladder to the longboat below.

"He volunteered," Yuuta grunted, as they arranged themselves in the boat and the sailor took up the oars, pushing them away from the _Dragonfly_ and pointing them at the dark bulk of the _Heron_, moored a short distance away.

Shishido's laugh barked through the darkness, short and rough over the splash of the oars. "Funny, he didn't strike me as the crazy sort."

"I'm just full of surprises," Saeki told him.

"Then you'll fit in, just fine," Shishido said, comfortably, and the rest of their passage back to the _Heron_ passed in silence.

* * *

Yuuta and Shishido returned to the _Dragonfly_ first thing the next morning, leaving the crew to work at odd jobs around the ship, and did not return until the middle of the afternoon, with Fuji and three of his sailors in tow. The first thing Yuuta did was call for all hands to gather on the main deck, while Fuji and his men stood a little apart, watching.

The _Heron_'s sailors arranged themselves on the deck, and Yuuta paced back and forth in front of them, looking them over. "If you want to leave my crew," he said, stopping and folding his arms, "now's a good time to do it." He gestured at his brother. "The _Dragonfly_'ll take you, and you'll be free to find another crew the next time they put into port. I'll settle up with you, and I won't ask any questions, or think any worse of you if you go." He paused. "Anyone?"

No one said anything, although there was the rustle of men shifting on their feet and casting puzzled glances at Yuuta, at Shishido (whose face gave nothing away), and at each other.

Yuuta waited. "No one?" Again, no one answered. "I'm touched." He resumed pacing, stalking along the straggling line of them and back again. "You all know what happened to the _Otohime_ by now," he said, abruptly. "You all remember what happened to the _Mercury_."

A ripple ran through the crowd of them, at that. Saeki didn't recognize the other ship that Yuuta had named, but the rest of the crew seemed to, judging by the muttering.

Yuuta waited for their reaction to subside. "You remember, two summers ago, the first time we had Yukimura pinned down, and how Kuki ignore us, and let him get away?" His crew muttered louder; Yuuta lifted his voice, cutting through the muttering. "And that winter, when we gave the _Rose_ to Atobe, and how the navy lost Yukimura, and damn near lost the _Adonis_, too?" The muttering was turning into darker, angrier. "And last fall, how even Tezuka and the _Polaris_ managed to let a sure thing slip away?" The muttering turned to outright growls. "I'm not going to let it happen again."

Sengoku snorted. "With all due respect, Captain, how do you plan to do that?" He waved a hand, the careless gesture including Fuji and his men and the _Dragonfly_. "The navy can't pour piss out of a boot when the instructions are written on the heel."

Fuji covered his mouth with his hand, ostensibly coughing, while the tallest of the sailors he'd brought with him drew himself up, an angry flush spreading over his cheeks at the guffaws greeting Sengoku's assessment.

Yuuta intervened before trouble could break out. "I don't intend to rely on the navy to do it this time," he said. "I mean to take Yukimura myself."

The crew went silent at that announcement, and for several moments, the only sound was the creaking of the ship as she rocked in the water.

"This isn't what you signed on with me for," Yuuta began, after he'd granted them a moment to digest what he'd said.

"You're damn right it isn't," Akutsu said, scowling. "What in the hell are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking Yukimura's been let to do as he pleases for too long," Yuuta told him. "And I think I'm tired of seeing my hard work and yours go for nothing." He spread his hands. "But I won't ask anyone to risk his life for this. If you want to leave, leave. Shuusuke's got a berth for every one of you, if it comes to that, and I'll sail this ship myself and find a crew that's just as crazy as I am, if that's what it takes to get the _Rose_." He shrugged. "But if you stay, I'd be glad to have you."

The crew muttered, unhappily; Saeki caught the words 'crazy bastard' and 'yeah, but the _Mercury_—' among the dozen whispered conversations.

"One last thing, and then I'll let you decide," Yuuta said. "Anyone who stays gets paid double, starting today, until we get Yukimura. When we get him, there'll be a bonus for each one of you—three months' double pay. And I'll give the man who kills Yukimura a year's double pay."

The tenor of the crew's muttering changed, again, until Yanagisawa spoke up. "A dead man can't spend money, no matter how much he has."

Yuuta shrugged. "A good point. That's why I'm leaving it up to you boys to decide what you want to do." He stepped back, and gestured. "All right. Who's in?"

Shishido moved to stand next to him, face set and grim, while Fuji tilted his head at the sailors who'd accompanied him from the _Dragonfly_. The tall one and the spiky-haired one detached themselves from that little group, and joined Yuuta and Shishido.

Saeki sighed, and nudged his way past Sengoku and Muromachi, and crossed the little clear space between the two sets of the _Heron_'s sailors. "I'm in," he said.

"I appreciate it," Yuuta murmured. This close, it was easy to see the strain in the lines around his mouth. He looked past Saeki to the bulk of his crew.

"Aw, hell, Captain. I've been sailing with you for too long to stop now." Davide strode across the deck to join them, and looked back. "Bane, you aren't going to miss out on this, are you?"

"'Course not." Bane shook his head as he ambled over to them. "Gotta have something to tell the grandkids about."

"You're both insane," Yanagisawa said, flatly. "You're not going to last long enough to have _kids_, let alone—"

"'Scuse me." Dan pushed past him, and crossed the deck. "If you're going to kill Yukimura, then I'm going with you, Captain."

"Thank you, Dan," Yuuta said gravely, while Bane reached over to ruffle the cabin boy's hair.

Akutsu stomped across the deck, glaring the whole way. "Damn it, kid," he growled, in response to Dan's sunny smile.

That left the group of them facing twelve sailors who wore a range of varying expressions. "Well?" Yuuta said, after a moment, when no one else had moved to join them.

"Was that triple pay you said, Captain?" Sengoku drawled.

Yuuta folded his arms. "Double pay, Sengoku," he retorted.

"Hm. Not even for the lucky?" Sengoku's smile was careless, despite the intent expression in his eyes.

"Smuggling rum isn't _that_ lucrative, even for me. Not even for the lucky, Sengoku."

"Hmmm..." Sengoku tapped his chin. "I suppose it's not."

Yuuta waited while Sengoku mulled it over, until he lost patience and blew out a breath, exasperated. "Are you staying or going?"

Sengoku grinned. "I can't decide." He nudged his neighbor. "Oi, Touji. Lend me a penny, will you?"

Muromachi grumbled, and found a coin for him. Sengoku smiled, and flipped it into the air. He slapped it down against the back of his hand. Without looking at it, he said, "Call it, Captain."

"Heads," Yuuta said, evenly.

Sengoku lifted his hand to peek at the coin, and his smile got wide. "Ah," he said. "Looks like the lucky's with you today, Captain." He tucked the coin away and sauntered over to join them.

"Looks like it." Yuuta's tone was dry, but he smiled, faintly, as the little knot of Sengoku's superstitious cabal crossed the deck to join him. He looked to the cluster of men remaining behind. "Well, boys?"

Yanagisawa straightened his shoulders, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Captain. Not this time."

"I understand," Yuuta said, quietly. "Kisarazu?"

Kisarazu hesitated. "I have a fiancée," he said, softly. "I can't, Captain."

"I can't blame you for it," Yuuta murmured, and looked to the last man. "Nomura? You're the best cook this ship has had. Don't know if I can replace you."

"You flatter me, Captain." Nomura wavered, twisting his fingers together. "I... I'm in." He darted over to join the rest of them, leaving Yanagisawa and Kisarazu standing alone.

Yuuta nodded. "All right. Thank you." He clapped his hands. "Shishido, see to it that everyone gets a double portion of rum tonight."

"Aye, Captain," Shishido said, over the din of the cheering.

Yuuta's mouth quirked. "Settle the new ones in, Shishido. Yanagisawa, Kisarazu. Over here. The rest of you, back to work."

The crew dispersed to their various duties, talking in low voices, as Yuuta and Fuji converged on Yanagisawa and Kisarazu.

"'S'pose I can't blame them," Davide murmured to Saeki. "Yanagisawa's not one for fighting. Never has been. And if I had a pretty girl waiting in port for me... eh. I'd be reluctant, too." He sighed. "But a chance to get the _Rose_..."

"Mm," Saeki said, settling himself and picking up the sail he'd been mending. "So you've been chasing Yukimura for a while."

"Going on three years," Bane put in. "Yukimura's a tricky bastard. And Sengoku's right. The navy has fucked up every chance we've given them."

"Tch." Davide spat over the rail at that.

Saeki considered his sail. "What happened to the _Mercury_?"

Davide and Bane exchanged looks. "The _Mercury_ was like us," Davide said, finally. "Did a little smuggling, did a lot of spying, kept an eye on what was going on and sometimes gave a nod to the navy when Mizuki got wind of where a pirate might be found. But word got out, what she was. And Yukimura, well. He's been known to do a spot of privateering, from time to time. If it suits him."

"And his crew boasts, sometimes," Bane added. He looked away. "Word was that the _Mercury_ didn't go down easy. Or well. And that Yukimura and his crew were paid well to make sure that it happened that way."

"They play with their food," Davide said, biting off the words. "Bastards."

"It doesn't matter. It's getting a shot at them now—that's what matters," Bane said, with a dark smile.

"Saeki!" a call from further up the deck interrupted the conversation. "My cabin, now." Yuuta turned away before seeing whether his order would be obeyed.

Davide and Bane shrugged at him, so Saeki put his sail back down, and went to see what the captain wanted. "Sir?" he asked, sliding the cabin's door shut behind him.

Yuuta was standing with his back to the door, staring out the windows at the water, and Fuji had the chair by his desk. "Shuusuke would like to hear what happened to the _Otohime_ from you."

"Oh. Of course." Saeki looked at Fuji, and marshaled his thoughts before launching into his account of the _Otohime_'s last minutes. It was still painful, and brief; the short time since had done nothing to ease the pain of having lost his ship.

Fuji listened, still and attentive, and nodded his thanks when Saeki finished. "It is good to hear it," he said. "Ann will appreciate—" his mouth twisted "—the details. Thank you."

"I'm sorry I can't tell you more," Saeki said, helplessly.

"Don't be. You told us what happened. If you hadn't survived, we would have been left to wonder what had happened to Kippei." Fuji sighed. "Knowing is... small comfort, but it is comfort nonetheless."

"Revenge is the most comfort of all, Shuusuke," Yuuta said, without turning. "Thank you, Saeki. You may go. Tell Nomura Shuusuke will be eating with me this evening."

"Aye, Captain." Saeki nodded to Fuji, and went to do as Yuuta had ordered.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time they were rousted from their quarters the next morning, worse for the wear and the rum, the _Dragonfly_ had already set sail, and was a distant speck on the horizon. Yuuta looked after her, face still and impossible to read, before calling orders to his hungover crew to weigh anchor and unfurl the sails, and bring them around to a northeastern heading. Saeki fell to as readily as his crewmates, watching the captain pace along the deck, speaking with Shishido and giving no sign at all that it had been past midnight before he'd had Muromachi row Fuji back to his ship, and life settled back into its routine.

Saeki wasn't sure why it surprised him that Yuuta joined him that evening—surely the man had better things to be doing than sitting at the stern, watching the sun go down. It was Yuuta's ship, he reminded himself, and hardly his place to question what Yuuta did.

Not that he planned on letting that stop him.

"You could have said," Saeki told him, after Yuuta had been sitting next to him for some time.

To his credit, Yuuta didn't pretend not to understand. "I suppose I could have. Would you have believed me?"

Saeki thought about it. "Probably," he said. "It would have made everything make more sense." More sense than any of the other wild theories he'd been trying to put together.

"Mm." Yuuta looked at him. "I didn't figure you'd stay."

"I told you I'd find a new ship once Tachibana's family knew what happened." Saeki shrugged. "This is a good ship."

"Says the man who could barely stand us a few days ago."

"A few days ago I barely knew any of you, and thought you were smugglers," Saeki said. He paused, and added, "A few days ago, I didn't know you had revenge on your mind."

The corner of Yuuta's mouth turned up. "Ah. The truth comes out. Should have known that it wasn't my vast charm that was keeping you around."

"What charm?" Saeki asked, and waited until Yuuta looked properly affronted to laugh.

"Hmph. Think you're funny, don't you?"

"It was a perfectly serious question," Saeki protested, still grinning.

"Sure it was." Yuuta shook his head. "I wonder if it's too late to chase Shuusuke down and give you to him to deal with."

"Probably is." Saeki scratched his chin. "You may be stuck with me."

Yuuta gave him a glance, sidelong. "I suppose I can live with that." He stood. "Goodnight, Sae."

"Night, Captain."

* * *

"The thing is," Sengoku said, but quietly, eyes fixed on his work, "why _now_? He didn't go this crazy after _Mizuki_ went and got himself killed."

"Maybe blood's just thicker than water," Muromachi offered.

"Thicker than _something_," Akutsu rumbled, and a little ripple of laughter ran through the knot of men as they exchanged knowing smirks.

Had it been like that, between Yuuta and Mizuki? Saeki, hovering on the edge of their discussion, blinked and filed that speculation away for later thought.

"Hey, now—Saeki, you got to go to their big meeting. Why's the captain lost his mind?"" Muromachi asked, folding Saeki into their discussion (whether he liked it or not).

Saeki hesitated. "I—he didn't actually say why. Just argued a lot that he was going to do it, whether the navy approved or not."

"Damn," Muromachi muttered, shaking out the sail he was mending. "I don't mind doing it. I just wish I understood what the hell he's thinking."

"He did sail with Tachibana's crew, once," Saeki offered.

"We knew that already," Sengoku said, dismissing it.

"_I_ didn't," Mori said. "Huh. That makes sense."

"Not to me," Akutsu grunted. "A man doesn't go nuts just because he lost an old captain."

"And brother-in-law," Muromachi said. "And yeah, he does. I mean, look at Sae."

"Sae's _also_ crazy," Sengoku said, grinning.

Mori laughed. "Matched pair, aren't they?"

Saeki made a rude gesture at them, glared at their laughter, and moved away from their conversation without trying to explain how Tachibana had been the kind of man to inspire this kind of loyalty.

* * *

Later that evening, Yuuta joined him, and stayed silent for long enough that Saeki decided that it wasn't going to be a talking night, and had drifted off into his own thoughts, and it startled him when Yuuta finally said something. "So. How much of my crew thinks I've lost my mind?"

"All of it," Saeki told him.

"Most of it," Davide called over his shoulder, correcting him. "I already knew he was a lunatic."

Yuuta's smile was faint. "At least they all agree on something, for a change."

"Enjoy it while it lasts," Davide said.

"I'll be sure to," Yuuta said. He rested his chin on the rail. "I suppose you think I'm crazy, too."

"Fed up, maybe," Saeki said. "Out of whatever patience you might have had. If you ever had any." He had his doubts on that score. "Really angry, too." And grieving, but he wasn't going to say that. "And yeah, maybe a little crazy."

"Hah." Yuuta's smile was curving into something less sardonic. "That's more nuanced than being a lunatic, isn't it?"

"Sort of, I guess."

Yuuta chuckled. "You should have been a diplomat, not a sailor. Or a spy."

"I'll remember that, next time I need work," Saeki murmured.

Yuuta laughed outright at that.

* * *

Yuuta swept onto the deck one afternoon after they'd been sailing for a week on their new heading, and called for his three new crewmembers to leave off what they were doing. Saeki shrugged at Momoshiro's look, and tied off his line before following him over to where Ohtori had been mopping the deck and the captain was waiting.

Yuuta folded his arms, inspecting the three of them. "I don't suppose you boys know how to fight?" he asked, sounding doubtful enough that it was clear he didn't expect much.

"Some," Saeki said, with half a shrug, to Momoshiro's indignant, "Of course I do!" and Ohtori's confident, "I've had some training."

Yuuta grinned. "Glad to hear it," he said. "Let's see how much you know." He scooped up a sheathed cutlass and tossed it to Momoshiro. "You first."

"Er—" Momoshiro began, looking at the sword. Yuuta let out a yell like a banshee and attacked him. "Holy fuck!" He stumbled back, getting the cutlass unsheathed and blocking Yuuta with an awkward sweep of the blade. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Yuuta laughed. "What's the point of fighting if you're not trying to kill your opponent?" he demanded, and attacked Momoshiro again.

Saeki and Ohtori backed away from the two of them as Momoshiro set his mouth in a thin line, defending against the flurry of Yuuta's attacks. Watching Yuuta harry him across the deck, Saeki decided that it wasn't too unfair a fight—Momoshiro knew what he was doing with a sword, and if Yuuta hadn't caught him off-guard to begin with, it would have been even.

He winced as Yuuta knocked the sword out of Momoshiro's hand, sending it skittering across the deck. Probably even, anyway.

Momoshiro lifted his hands as Yuuta rested the tip of his cutlass at the hollow of his throat. "You attacked before I was ready. That's not—"

"I hope you don't expect Yukimura to be _fair_," Yuuta interrupted him. "Or were you thinking he'd send out engraved invitations?"

"No, but this was practice—"

"_Practice_? Where'd you get the idea that this was _practice_?" Yuuta snorted. "Feh. _Practice_!" He rounded on the other two and charged.

Saeki ducked left and Ohtori ducked right, which put Ohtori much closer to the abandoned sword. Yuuta veered after him, and Ohtori scrambled after the blade and brought it sweeping up to block Yuuta's sword. Either he was quite a bit better than Momoshiro, or he simply dealt better with surprises, because he found his feet faster than Momoshiro had—or, possibly, it was both. Ohtori refused to let Yuuta keep him on the defensive, and matched him attack for attack.

Standing well back from the two of them, Saeki decided that it was probably that Ohtori really was a damn good swordsman, because he moved like a dancer, sidestepping a coil of rope on the deck as Yuuta maneuvered him backwards, and then returning the favor by pressing forward with a flurry of attacks. Yuuta's grin had changed, too, to something fierce and pleased, and he locked their blades together.

They strained against each other, and Saeki frowned—with Ohtori's superior height, he was certain to overpower Yuuta. Ohtori knew it, and smiled—

And then Yuuta kneed him in the groin, and wrestled the sword out of his hands as Ohtori's face went white with pain. "Good," he said, as Ohtori staggered back. "Learn to fight dirty, and you'll be all right." He grinned. "Talk to Shishido, he'll give you lessons."

"Aye, Captain," Ohtori wheezed.

Yuuta spun on his heel. "I think it's your turn," he said to Saeki, with a grin that said he knew perfectly well that he had both swords.

"I hadn't noticed," Saeki replied, and dodged out of Yuuta's way as he charged.

Ohtori's mop and bucket were still sitting where he'd left them; Saeki seized the mop and the bucket overturned, sending water sluicing across the deck. He brought the handle up just in time to block Yuuta's first blow.

The force of it shivered up his arms, and the wood in his hands creaked alarmingly. "Resourceful," Yuuta noted, teeth bared in a feral grin, and attacked again.

"Not real eager to lose another fight to you," Saeki corrected him, and skittered back, away from the boot that had nearly come down on his toes.

Yuuta laughed. "You called that a fight? That was an embarrassment, Sae." He sidestepped the stab aimed at his gut, and parried Saeki's next blow.

"Whatever. It was a fight, and I lost," Saeki grunted, as they circled each other, watching for an opening. "I'd rather not do it again."

"You've certainly got the right attitude," Yuuta mused, and pressed him again, low and fast. The chips flew from the mop's handle as Saeki blocked them. "Huh. This would be almost even if you had a sword."

"Then we could stop while I got one," Saeki grunted, driving Yuuta back with a sudden flurry of attacks. "But pirates don't give breaks, hn?"

"We should be so lucky," Yuuta snorted, and then his foot came down on a patch of soapy water and went out from under him.

Even that almost wasn't enough; if Saeki had not been waiting for precisely that opportunity, Yuuta's defense might have been sufficient to allow himself to regain his feet. Saeki didn't give him that chance, hammering away at Yuuta until he twisted the sword out of Yuuta's hands and could rest the tip of his battered mop in front of Yuuta's nose.

Yuuta's eyes were sharp, and smiling even if his mouth wasn't. "Not bad," he said. "This is why it's good to have a back-up plan." And suddenly there was a pistol in his hands.

Saeki snorted, and stood back, relaxing his stance a bit, keeping a wary eye on the gun. "You don't like losing much, do you?"

"Not especially," Yuuta sniffed, climbing to his feet and tucking the pistol back into his belt. "You could all do with some practice. Now get back to work." He strode off, whistling.

Saeki looked at Momoshiro and Ohtori. "I have to ask," he said. "Is his brother crazy, too?"

Ohtori climbed to his feet, gingerly. "Not as overtly," he said, and accepted the battered mop back from Saeki.

* * *

"Hear I missed a good show today," Davide said, when Saeki nodded to him that evening.

Saeki made a face at him. "If your idea of a good show runs to comedy."

"It does, sometimes." Davide paused, reflecting. "Would have liked to see you take on the captain with a mop. Been a while since he's had a proper challenge."

"I got lucky, that's all." He shrugged. "Ohtori gave him a better challenge. I just had the advantage of watching him fight, first."

"Luck's got nothing to do with it, unless you're Sengoku. You got him, fair and square. At least, until he changed the rules on you." Davide sucked on his teeth. "He's big on breaking the rules."

Saeki affected astonishment. "You know, I hadn't noticed that."

Davide laughed outright. "You're a lot more fun now that you've loosened up."

"And you're a lot less obnoxious now that you aren't keeping secrets for the hell of it," Saeki told him.

"Hah. Now you're mixing me up with the captain," Davide said, swatting at him lazily. "G'wan and watch your sunset or commune with the ocean or whatever the hell it is you do up here of an evening."

Saeki went.

A little while later Yuuta himself joined him, dropping into place without a word. Saeki didn't say anything for a while, until curiosity got the better of him. "Did I pass?"

"Beg pardon?" Whatever Yuuta had been thinking about, the lesson in swordplay hadn't been it.

"This afternoon," Saeki said, looking out at the waves. "Way I figure it, Fuji wouldn't have given you any but the best men he had to spare, and I don't think you would have accepted them in the first place if you hadn't been sure they were capable."

"Knowing what a man is supposed to be able to do doesn't mean you know what he _can_ do," Yuuta replied.

"I guess."

They lapsed into silence again, until Yuuta snorted. "Yeah, you passed."

Saeki grinned. "Thought so. As long as I've got a bucket of soapy water to depend on, I'm in good shape." He could feel Yuuta looking at him, so he glanced over. "What? You going to tell me that pirates don't believe in soapy water?"

Yuuta's mouth turned wry. "It's been my experience that most don't."

"I'll have to come up with an alternative, then," Saeki said. Yuuta was still looking at him, eyes odd. "What?"

Yuuta just shook his head. "Never mind," he said.

It wasn't long after that he murmured his good-nights, and went below.

* * *

Some weeks later, after life aboard the _Heron_ had become routine, from the daily work to his evening conversations with Yuuta (was it odd that Yuuta still sought out his company in the evenings? Saeki thought that perhaps it was, but then, Yuuta seemed to have made a career out of his peculiarities), they sailed into a port that Saeki had never heard of. Since there was no flag flying over the collection of ramshackle buildings and warehouses, he suspected he knew _why_ he'd never heard of it. After Yuuta had haggled with an unsavory assortment of men, they spent most of a day emptying the hold of its cargo and moving it to one of the warehouses lining the docks. Yuuta supervised, grinning like he was pleased with the deals he had made, and when the hold was empty, he called all hands to the main deck to distribute their pay. It was more generous than Saeki had expected, even when he considered the fact that it had been doubled.

A fist full of straws shoved under his nose interrupted his thoughts. "Pick one," Shishido said.

Saeki did as he was ordered, and looked at the straw curiously as Shishido moved down the line.

Bane settled an arm over his shoulder. "Lucky," he said, nodding at Saeki's straw.

"It is?" Saeki asked, blankly.

Down the line from them, Ishida groaned after he picked out his straw.

Bane grinned. "If you want to go ashore tonight, it's lucky."

"I see," Saeki murmured, shrugging Bane's arm off his shoulders absently as Mori picked his straw and groaned, too. "How democratic."

"The captain's pretty fair that way," Davide murmured. "They'll get their turn tomorrow."

"All right, gentlemen." Yuuta clapped his hands together. "You've got shore leave until tomorrow afternoon. Try not to show up still drunk when you come back. Akutsu, if I have to get you out of jail again, I'm busting you back to cabin boy and Dan can take your place." He paused. "Sengoku, you're in charge of keeping Momoshiro out of trouble. Davide, keep an eye on Saeki, and Shishido, I want you to do the same for Ohtori." Saeki wondered whether Yuuta was wearing the tiniest bit of an evil smile, or it was just his imagination. "Now keep your mouths shut, all of you, and get the hell out of here."

Bane slung his arm around Saeki's shoulder again as the crew began to disperse (with the exception of Ishida and Mori, who hung back, exchanging quiet words with Yuuta). "Looks like we're on nursery detail, eh, Davide?" he drawled.

"Sounds like it," Davide agreed, rueful.

Saeki scowled at them both. "I don't need a nanny," he grumbled, as Bane propelled him to the gangplank. Half the crew was well down the docks already, and scattering fast.

"Of course you don't," Davide said, grinning. "Think of us as your guides instead."

"Nannies," Saeki grunted, trying and failing to dislodge Bane's arm.

"Whatever. This nanny has a powerful thirst," Bane declared as their feet hit the docks. "Let's get this tour started, shall we?"

"Sounds perfect to me," Davide agreed, linking an arm with Saeki's.

* * *

Some hours later, with the contents of his pay packet sadly diminished and his head swimming with ale, Saeki excused himself from the table the three of them had claimed to weave his way to the privy behind the bar.

When he came back, Bane had slid over into his seat, and he and Davide were tangled up in each other.

Saeki blinked, thoughts sorting themselves out slowly, thanks to the ale, before he leaned over and tapped Davide's shoulder. "Get a room," he said, when Davide came up for air and turned slightly-glazed eyes on him.

"Hard to nanny you from a room," Davide objected.

Bane leered. "Unless he comes with us," he suggested, eyes roving over Saeki, assessing him. "_I_ wouldn't kick him out of bed."

Saeki rolled his eyes. "Get a room," he said again. "I'll be fine. I'll go back to the ship, stay out of trouble."

Davide frowned, but he looked very tempted—Saeki thought that the fact that Bane's hands were nowhere in sight might have something to do with that. "But—"

"This is me, going back to the _Heron_," Saeki said, grinning. "Have fun."

By the time he made it to the door and looked back, the two of them were already on their way upstairs. Saeki grinned, and stepped out into the street.

The cooler night air cleared his head, and he hesitated. Left would take him back to the docks. Right would take him further into what there was of this town—he nodded to himself, mind made up, and turned right.

There wasn't much town to explore. There were a handful of streets lined with warehouses, and an equal number of streets filled with whorehouses and taverns loud with men drinking and fighting. Satisfied with his explorations, and not inclined to drink the rest of his pay (and ignoring the solicitations of the prostitutes leaning out their windows), he turned his steps back to the docks.

He promptly ran into someone coming out of a brothel. "Sorry about that," he said, picking the other man up and hoping he wasn't drunk enough to want to fight. "I didn't—"

"Aren't you supposed to be with Davide?" Yuuta asked him, while Saeki stared. "I'd swear I told him to keep an eye on you."

"He's keeping an eye on Bane now, instead," Saeki said, brain sputtering back to life slowly. "I was just going back to the _Heron_..."

"Of _course_ you were," Yuuta said, brushing at the mud on his breeches. "I suppose I've inherited you. Come on." He set off, moving briskly, and there was nothing to do but follow him. "Get enough of being ashore already?"

"Not much to do here but drink and fuck," Saeki told him, mouth trundling along without asking his brain whether that was the most politic thing to say when his captain was reeking of cheap perfume.

Yuuta snorted. "You don't say."

"I guess I do," Saeki said, awkwardly.

"No one can fault your powers of observation," Yuuta said, and stopped outside another tavern. "How drunk are you?"

"Not very," Saeki told him. "Sober enough to get back to the ship on my own—"

But Yuuta had already made an impatient motion and was going inside. Saeki sighed, and followed him into the din.

Yuuta elbowed his way through the crowd and called for ale at the bar, and then greetings to a raucous group in a corner, before he steered them to another corner. "We'll sit here," he announced, with a grandiloquent gesture that sent ale slopping out of his tankard. He gave the drunkard slumped over the table a kick to rouse him.

Eventually the man bleared awake, cursed Yuuta roundly, and staggered off. Yuuta snorted, and slung an arm around Saeki, urging him down. "Spill more of that than you drink," he said, against Saeki's ear, breath hot. "And try not to look so poleaxed."

Saeki took a drink to cover his confusion, and set the tankard down with a thump and a splash. "What in the hell are you doing?" he demanded, as Yuuta's arm wound around his waist.

Yuuta leaned into him, grinning. "I never come in here with anyone," he said, through his teeth. "You need an excuse to be here."

"I could have—"

"I don't let my crew go through this town alone," Yuuta murmured, hand sliding over Saeki's stomach.

"_You_ go through here alone," Saeki muttered, covering Yuuta's hand with his own and stopping its journey south.

Yuuta laughed, softly. "That's because I know how to take care of myself."

Saeki drew himself up, offended. "And I don't?"

Yuuta laughed again, and then shouted. "Akazawa!"

"Yuuta!" came the answering roar, and a man slid into the seat opposite them. "See you haven't drowned yet."

Yuuta leaned back in his seat, grinning. "See they haven't hanged you yet."

"Not for lack of trying." Akazawa nodded at Saeki. "Who the hell's this?"

Yuuta ran a brazen hand through Saeki's hair. "Got myself a new man," he said, proudly.

Saeki tried not to choke on his ale.

"Kind of chilly-looking, if you ask me," Akazawa observed.

"I didn't," Yuuta said, tossing back his drink and splashing a lot of it on Saeki in the process. "How's business?"

Akazawa shrugged. "So-so. Navy's riding us hard."

Yuuta scowled. "Navy rides us all too damn hard," he muttered. "Getting impossible for an honest man to make a living. Between them and the pirates... eh."

Akazawa raised his eyebrows. "You have a lot of balls to be talking like that in this town," he said.

"Didn't see any colors in the harbor," Yuuta retorted.

"No," Akazawa drawled. "So what's your point? There are ears everywhere." He paused and glanced pointedly at Saeki.

"He's with me," Yuuta said, quietly.

Akazawa hummed thoughtfully, and leaned forward. "You been up to see her yet?" Yuuta nodded. "Won't be able to tell you anything much, then. It's been quiet. The small fry are keeping their heads down."

"And why do you suppose that is?" Yuuta murmured.

"Seems like people who get noticed get taken," Akazawa said.

"Hmph. They're careless," Yuuta said, and Saeki snorted at the undercurrent of smugness running under his tone.

"Some aren't," Akazawa told him. He took a long drink of his ale; it was only because he was looking that Saeki saw how little he'd actually swallowed. "Word is that Yukimura thinks it's not an accident, how many times he's had a brush with the navy. Word is, he's angry."

"Is he, now?" Yuuta said, softly.

"Very angry," Akazawa said. "Navy'd do well to watch their backs."

Yuuta shrugged. "Their loss, if they don't."

* * *

Yuuta was scowling when they finally stumbled out of the tavern, leaning on each other and lurching back and forth. "Damn it, damn it, damn it," he muttered under his breath, so quiet that Saeki could barely hear him.

"Captain?" Saeki murmured. "What—"

"Not here," Yuuta hissed. "Back to the ship."

Saeki bit his tongue, and didn't say anything else as they staggered back to the docks, and the _Heron_. Yuuta whistled loudly; after a moment, Ishida looked over the side of the ship. "Captain?"

"Who else?" Yuuta said. "Run out the gangplank."

"Aye, sir."

Saeki steadied their way up the gangplank, and then blinked when Yuuta abruptly shook himself free and stood straight. "You think fast on your feet," he said, grinning. "Good job. Night, boys." He strolled off, whistling softly.

Of course it had all been an act. Saeki rolled his eyes at himself, gave Ishida a cordial nod, and went below to his hammock.

* * *

The rest of the crew came staggering back in twos and threes over the course of the morning, in various stages of hungover. Yuuta, who Saeki suspected had been up with the sun, greeted them with the news that they'd be spending the afternoon loading fresh cargo into the hold.

The afternoon passed in sullen quiet, work proceeding efficiently in spite of all the red eyes and short tempers. Yuuta prowled the wharf and the deck, supervising. By the time the light began to fail, the hold was nearly full again, and he was grinning. "Good job, boys," he called. "Go ahead and take the night off, eh? Davide, Saeki, you're on ship duty."

"Damn it," Davide murmured. "How in the hell did he—"

Saeki coughed, embarrassed. "I managed to knock into him on my way back last night," he confessed.

"Damn it," Davide said again, scowling.

Bane draped himself against Saeki's shoulder. "How about you take first watch, and—"

"Bane, you're still here?" Yuuta inquired, mildly, with a smile that showed all his teeth. "For fuck's sake, get off the ship and enjoy your night off."

Bane sighed, doleful. "Aye, Captain." He trudged off.

Yuuta looked at Davide. "I give my orders for a reason," he said, voice deadly quiet. "And I expect them to be obeyed."

"Aye, Captain." Davide drew himself up. "It was poor judgment. It won't happen again."

Saeki frowned. "I was the one who decided to leave," he said. "It's not Davide's fault that I didn't realize that it was an order proper."

"He should have made sure you knew," Yuuta said. "Just be glad it's a night on duty instead of lashes." He turned and walked away.

"He's right, you know," Davide said, after a moment. "He might be casual about some things, but orders are still orders." He pushed the hair out of his eyes, and sighed. "So, you want the first watch or the second?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Think we're in for some weather," Davide had said the night before, when he and Saeki had been chatting with each other. He'd sniffed the breeze that was kicking up, and nodded. "Yep. Definitely some weather coming."

Saeki had just snorted, and let it pass.

Remembering it as he hauled on a line, the rain coming down in sheets, plastering his hair and his clothes to his skin, he yelled at Davide. "You call this 'some weather'? This is a fucking hurricane!"

"Picky, picky," Davide yelled back as the deck pitched and tossed beneath their feet. "This is nothing!"

Saeki didn't dignify that with a response, as he was busy fighting his line, which the wind wanted to tear from his hands. When he finally managed to tie it off securely, he raked the wet hair out of his eyes.

Thunder cracked above them, and the waves tossed the _Heron_ again. Davide cursed as the roll of the deck knocked him off-balance, and he lost his grip on his line. The wind whipped it away from him, and above them, canvas began to unfurl. "Fuck!"

"I've got it," Saeki called to him, since he was closer to the rigging, already moving to climb aloft to recapture the line. The rigging and spars groaned as the shrieking wind filled the sail. Saeki cursed silently, climbing faster, careful of the wet ropes under his hands and feet, until he reached the spar he wanted. He hooked an arm around a handy brace, and leaned out to grab for the flapping line.

The wind gusted, knocking it away from his fingers, and he cursed again, waiting for it to flap back in his direction. The ship pitched; he tightened his grip on the rigging in response. This was, he thought, making another grab for the line, a really _stupid_ place to be in the middle of a storm.

The line slapped into his palm, wet and stinging, and he seized it with cold-numbed fingers. Grateful that it had been so easy to recapture, he began to make the precarious climb back down to the safety of the deck. Having only the one hand to climb with meant that he had to move slowly, and he cursed silently and steadily as he tried to find secure footing on the wet rigging.

The _Heron_ crested another wave, and dove down into the trough, and putting everything at a much sharper angle. At the same time, one of Saeki's feet slipped free of its precarious toehold.

For a long, terrifying moment, he flailed, his grip on the rigging and his other foot the only thing keeping him from falling, before the ship righted herself and his foot found the rigging again. He clung to it for a moment, adrenaline singing through his veins, before he drew a shaky breath and finished the climb back down to the deck.

Davide's face was white under his tan. "You crazy bastard," he growled, loud enough to be heard over the storm, and he grabbed the line out of Saeki's hand. He hauled on it, furling in the sail again, and tied it off with short, angry movements.

"You're welcome," Saeki told him, leaning against a barrel so that Davide wouldn't see the way that his knees were shaking.

Davide reached out and cuffed him. "Don't _do_ shit like that!"

Saeki saluted, half-heartedly. "Yes, sir!"

Shishido loomed up behind Davide. "This isn't teatime, ladies!" he bellowed. "Get back to work!"

Saeki pushed away from his barrel, and hoped that no one would notice how long it took for his hands to stop trembling.

* * *

The storm began dying down towards the middle of the afternoon, or they came to its edges—it was hard to say for sure, but the worst was past them. Nomura was able to distribute an actual hot meal (and as the waves stopped tossing the _Heron_ around so much, they found the appetite to keep it down) to see them through the remainder of the storm. By the time the sun began to set, they were clear of it, and when Saeki leaned against the stern's railing, the retreating rags of the clouds caught the light gorgeously. He savored the sight, and being able to stand on a deck that wasn't pitching wildly under his feet, and the fact that he was there to appreciate it at all.

Yuuta joined him as the sun slid down to meet the horizon, leaning against the railing next to him. Saeki looked him over and raised an eyebrow; Yuuta had abandoned his customary rag-tag finery for an ordinary shirt and breeches. "Underdressed, aren't you?"

"It's drying." Yuuta picked at the ragged cuff of his worn shirt. "Can't abide wet clothes."

"Then you're in a hell of a business," Saeki told him, wondering a little at the sullen tone. Yuuta had been positively elated earlier, laughing into the teeth of the storm.

"That's because I'm a contrary son of a bitch." Yuuta worried at a loose thread, twisting it around a finger, tugging on it restlessly.

Saeki watched as the hem began to unravel under the persistence of Yuuta's fingers. "Hope you can sew," he said, as it came undone. "Or know someone who does."

"I don't." Yuuta snapped the loose thread free, and let it float away in the breeze. "I don't give a damn about the shirt, either."

Saeki blew a breath out through his teeth. "If all you want is to take your temper out on someone, just say so."

"It's not temper," Yuuta snapped. He scowled. "...not exactly." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I need a drink." He turned on his heel; after a few steps he stopped, and looked back. "Are you coming, or not?"

"Didn't realize I was invited." Saeki shrugged at Davide, who shrugged back, and followed him, expecting Yuuta to go below for rum. Instead, Yuuta made for his cabin.

Saeki lingered in the door, until Yuuta looked up from the chest he was rummaging through. "You can sit, if you want," he said, something like his normal good humor tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"So gracious of you." Saeki moved the damp shirt that was draped over the chair next to Yuuta's desk, and hung it over a half-open drawer, and took the seat as Yuuta placed a bottle and a box on the desk. "...wine?"

"What else? A genie?" Yuuta flipped the box's lid open, and lifted out the wine glasses nestled within.

"I'm never sure what to expect from you," Saeki shrugged.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Yuuta said, holding the glasses up to inspect them in the failing light. "Do me a favor and light one of the lamps."

"Aye, Captain." He scooped up the tinderbox and moved to the nearest lamp.

Yuuta's face was odd in the flickering shadows, when he dropped the tinderbox on the desk and resumed his seat. "Thank you." He offered Saeki one of the glasses.

"You're welcome." Saeki took a drink of the wine, and blinked. "That's... not bad."

"Not bad?" Yuuta echoed, looking appalled. "It's considerably better than 'not bad'."

Saeki regarded his glass. "Couldn't prove it by me. Never drink the stuff."

"Barbarian." Yuuta shook his head, over the rim of his glass. "I suppose you prefer your rum."

"Rum is honest. You know where you are with it," Saeki told him, cheerful. He took another drink. "Wine sneaks up on me, and goes straight to my head. Stays there, too. Gives me the damnedest headaches."

"You don't have to drink it if you don't like it," Yuuta told him.

Maybe he was beginning to regret extending the invitation. "Hmph." Saeki shook his head. "That would be a waste."

"Of course it would." Yuuta shrugged. "Next time we'll drink rum."

Next time, huh? Interesting. "Sounds good," Saeki said. "When it comes to rum, I can drink any man under the table—even you, Captain." That odd expression crossed Yuuta's face again. "What?"

Yuuta raised an eyebrow, and his face smoothed out again. "Beg pardon?"

Maybe it was just the lamplight, doing funny things. "Nothing, never mind." Saeki covered up his puzzlement with another drink.

"If wine goes to your head like you say it does, you should slow down," Yuuta murmured. "You're going through that glass pretty quickly."

"You're drinking just as fast as I am," Saeki pointed out. "Faster, even."

Yuuta's expression was almost prim. "I've a good head for my wine."

Saeki slouched in his chair, beginning to feel the wine working on him, warming him from the inside out. "If you say so. You're the one who needed a drink, not me."

"Funny how that works, isn't it?" Yuuta lifted the bottle, refilling his glass; he gestured at Saeki's glass, and topped it off when Saeki held it out. "It's been a hell of a day."

"That's God's own truth," Saeki sighed, and lifted his glass to Yuuta in a mock toast.

"More for you than for me, I'd think," Yuuta said, scowling into his glass.

Oh. He must have seen the stunt with the rigging. Did the man miss anything that happened on his ship? "Eh. I'm just glad that Sengoku's luck has rubbed off on me," Saeki said, cheerfully—yes, the wine really was starting to work on him, if he could recollect that moment of mind-numbing terror with this much equanimity.

If anything, Yuuta's scowl turned darker. "That's pretty casual for someone who just about got himself killed today."

"It's not going to do either of us any good if I panic about it after the fact," Saeki said, trying to be reasonable. "And we're all courting death out here, one way or another."

"That was still one of the most idiotic things I've ever seen," Yuuta told him, tone frosty.

"Someone had to secure that line," Saeki argued. "When I first thought of it, it didn't seem as risky as it turned out to be. And if I hadn't done what I did, half the rigging would have gone."

"I would rather have lost half the rigging than—one of my crew," Yuuta said. "Rigging can be replaced. People can't."

"They can't," Saeki agreed, "but a crippled ship in deep water will kill her whole crew. I don't exactly outweigh the whole crew, do I?" And that was impeccable, unassailable logic. He wasn't doing too badly, despite being halfway through his second glass of wine.

Yuuta drained his glass in lieu of answering, and put the glass down rather than refill it from what remained in the bottle. Saeki counted the argument his, and savored the last few mouthfuls of his own wine against the backdrop of Yuuta's brooding silence. He set his glass down with a satisfied sigh, and the warm glow of alcohol warming his stomach.

"You can have the last of it, if you want," Yuuta said, and nudged the bottle over to him.

"You don't want it?" Saeki asked.

Yuuta looked away. "I've had enough."

"Might as well be hanged for a sheep," Saeki announced, and took advantage of the offer, which didn't amount to much wine. He toasted Yuuta again, and remarked, "Drinking doesn't seem to have done you much good."

"It never does," Yuuta murmured, back to toying with the ragged cuff hanging over his wrist. He gave Saeki a faint half-smile. "Seems to be agreeing with you, though."

"I'll be paying for it later," Saeki promised him. "Won't be fit for duty tomorrow, Captain, and it's all going to be your fault." This time he was watching, and saw that the faint shadow that crossed Yuuta's face wasn't a trick of the light. "_What_?" he asked, bewildered. "What did I say?"

Yuuta shook his head. "It's nothing."

"The hell you say." Saeki tipped back the last of the wine, and leaned forward. "What is it?"

"Wine really does go to your head," Yuuta noted, and collected their glasses. He moved away from the desk, and Saeki, to rinse them out with a bit of water.

Saeki refused to let himself be sidetracked. "Something I'm saying is pissing you off," he insisted. "Only you aren't yelling at me about it like normal." Since Yuuta had turned away, Saeki moved so that he could get a look at his face. "I mean, I'm not a smart man, but even I can tell something's wrong."

Moving did him no good; Yuuta's face might have been cast in stone for all of the information it gave him. "I told you, it's nothing," he said.

Saeki watched as he packed the glasses away. "...thanks for the drinks," he said, finally, and turned toward the door.

"You're going?"

"Didn't think you expected me to stay." Saeki tipped a puzzled look at him. "Unless you're just dying to pick a fight with someone." Which, given Yuuta's mood, seemed likely.

"I'm not—" Yuuta stopped, and shook his head. "Stay? A little longer?" His mouth quirked. "I'll try not to fight."

"...okay. I'll stay." Saeki sighed, and ambled back to his seat to collapse in it, bonelessly. "Even if you get even stranger when you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Yuuta told him. "Not yet, anyway."

Saeki cocked his head. "No? Planning on changing that? You already put the glasses away." He grinned. "I can go get some rum."

Yuuta seemed to be tempted by the offer, for a moment, before he shook his head, _no_. "It wouldn't work."

"Of course it would. It's rum." Saeki leaned an elbow on Yuuta's desk, and propped his chin up on his fist. "It'd be perfect for getting drunk on."

"Not getting drunk," Yuuta murmured, smoothing his fingers over the lid of the box, tracing his fingers over the engraved brass plate.

"Then what?" Saeki asked, tracking the movement of Yuuta's fingers, trying to read it, even angled away from him as it was. The first line looked like Yuuta's name—what was the next part? Saeki squinted, and gave up the section in the middle as impossible, as long as Yuuta's fingers were resting on it, and tried for the last line. _...mest regards, Mizuki Hajime_

Saeki jerked his eyes away from the box, guiltily, and saw that Yuuta was watching him. "Forgetting," Yuuta said, evenly. "I never seem to be able to forget the things I want to."

Saeki shifted in his seat. "Maybe that means you're not supposed to forget them."

Yuuta frowned. "No," he said. "No, I'm talking about... things that need to be forgotten. Things that only hold me back."

"Oh." Saeki turned that over. "Wine's not going to do that for you." Especially not wine from those glasses. "Rum might, though."

"Would you shut up about the rum?" Yuuta gave him an exasperated look.

"You were the one who brought it up in the first place," Saeki said.

Yuuta shook his head. "I did no such thing."

"You did, too." Weren't they supposed to not be fighting? Saeki thought that had been the plan.

Yuuta cast his eyes heavenward. "I suggested drinking wine, like a civilized person. _You're_ the barbarian who keeps bringing up rum."

"I like rum." Saeki ran a hand through his hair, studying Yuuta. "What's got you needing a drink so damn bad you'd drink with a barbarian?"

"Ghosts," Yuuta said.

Saeki wondered what his face must have looked like, because Yuuta burst into laughter—maybe he was drunker than he was admitting to being. "I don't believe in ghosts."

"Neither do I," Yuuta said, between chuckles.

That clinched it. "You're drunk," Saeki announced. "And being drunk makes your crazy show even more than it normally does."

"I'm not crazy! ...not very crazy, anyway," Yuuta retorted. "And I'm _not_ drunk. Mostly." He should his head, smile slipping away. "They aren't... real ghosts. Just... memories."

Oh. Memories. Couldn't he have said that was what was bothering him? "Memories," Saeki repeated. "What are you remembering that's so bad?"

"Did I say they were bad?" Yuuta's smile was back, and sliding towards the fey. "Some of them are very good."

"It's a good thing I know you like to be cryptic for the hell of it," Saeki said, tired of dancing around the subject—whatever the hell it was. "I'd've had to give up talking to you months ago, otherwise."

"We can't have that," Yuuta said. He rested his chin in his palm, eyes searching Saeki's. "I confuse you that much?"

"I can't tell what you're after, half the time," Saeki said, since Yuuta favored candor over courtesy. "And I can't tell when you're after one thing but say another, Cap—" Yuuta's brows drew together, and Saeki stopped, as a hypothesis presented itself to him. "—Yuuta," he said. "You were wanting me to call you by _name_, weren't you?" Yuuta's mouth went thin, but he didn't deny it. Saeki sighed. "Couldn't you have just _said_?"

Yuuta looked away. "Couldn't think of how."

"Saying, 'Hey, Sae, when we're being buddies and not captain-and-crew, call me Yuuta,' didn't occur to you?"

"...not in those precise terms." Yuuta crossed his arms, still not looking at Saeki.

"You had something else in mind, Yuuta?" Saeki asked, trying out the feel of it. "Or were you going to hope that I'd read your mind before your bad mood drove me out of here?"

"Something else." If anything, Yuuta's mood was turning darker.

"...hey." Saeki waited, until Yuuta looked at him again. "We're friends, right? But you have to help me out a little—I told you, I have a hard time figuring you out. So you have to let me know."

Yuuta held his eyes for a moment, and then nodded. "All right," he said, and picked up the abandoned cork. "Do me a favor, Sae," he said, after a moment. "Don't... crazy things, like what you did today. Don't do it again. Okay?"

He started to protest—they'd been over this already—but stopped himself. "That's still bothering you?"

"Yeah. It's still bothering me." Yuuta rolled the cork between his fingers, eyes fixed on it. "I thought you were going to splatter yourself on my deck."

"For a little while, so did I," Saeki said. "Scared the crap out of me."

"The rigging's not worth that," Yuuta said. "It's really not."

"This from the man who's in love with his ship," Saeki said, lightly.

Yuuta flinched. "I'm not," he said. "Not with my ship." His fingers were white, clenched around the cork.

Saeki started to protest that, argue that yes, he _was_, when he took a second look at Yuuta's expression.

...oh. _Oh._

Saeki took a deep breath, and when he managed to speak again, his voice was quiet. "And here I thought there wasn't anyone who could compete with the _Heron_."

The muscles in Yuuta's jaw jumped as he swallowed. "You thought wrong." He looked up. "Stay with me for a little longer?"

Saeki laid his fingers on top of Yuuta's. "Yeah," he said. "I'll stay."

Yuuta exhaled, like the weight of the world had just come off his shoulders, and the smile that spread across his face was brilliant and much more like his normal wicked grin. "Good," he said, lacing his fingers with Saeki's, and leaned across his desk to kiss Saeki. He kissed the way he did everything else, holding nothing back and giving no quarter, fierce and uncompromising. Saeki let it catch him up the way he'd let himself be caught by the rest of Yuuta's moods, responding eagerly to the dizzy heat of Yuuta's lips sliding against his.

"Sae," Yuuta breathed, resting his forehead against Saeki's, hands cupped around face, eyes asking.

"Yeah," Saeki whispered back, and pushed away from his chair. Yuuta rose to meet him, pulling him close. "Yuuta..." Saeki said, hands roaming over Yuuta's lean body, sighing as Yuuta spread his hands against Saeki's chest. Saeki found Yuuta's mouth again for another kiss, hot enough to steal Saeki's breath away.

Yuuta returned it, hands fisting in his shirt, and then he growled impatiently into Saeki's mouth. "Off," he ordered, and Saeki blinked at him, confused that Yuuta had broken away from their kiss until Yuuta's hands slid up his chest, pushing the coarse cotton of his shirt ahead of them. Then he was blinded, briefly, as he understood, and helped Yuuta get it off. "Better," Yuuta grunted, and attacked him with hungry hands and a hungrier mouth.

"Getting there," Saeki agreed, breathlessly, hands finding their way to the fine-grained skin of Yuuta's back, liking the way Yuuta's muscles jumped and shivered under his hands. Yuuta pressed against him, kisses making it impossible to think, or to pay much attention to the fact that Yuuta was coaxing him backwards until something hit the backs of his legs, and Yuuta had tumbled him down onto his bunk.

Saeki blinked up at him, dazed, as Yuuta stripped off his own shirt impatiently, and joined him. "Impatient, aren't you?" he asked, sighing as Yuuta's chest pressed against his own, warm and sleek, and then he gasped as Yuuta insinuated a leg between his. "...Yuuta!"

"Time's too valuable to waste." Yuuta's voice was throaty in Saeki's ear, and his mouth on Saeki's throat was hot.

"Then don't," Saeki breathed, rocking his hips up against the hard thigh edged between them, groaning at the pleasure that arced up his spine. "Yuuta..."

"Yes," Yuuta whispered, "God, yes," and his hands were clever and quick at the laces of Saeki's breeches, and his hands were rough against Saeki's skin as he pushed them down Saeki's hips. Saeki moved slower, fingers feeling thick and clumsy (damned wine) as he returned the favor, and Yuuta murmured wordless encouragement, arching above him, skin golden in the lamplight.

Saeki drew him back down, breath coming fast at the feel of Yuuta's skin bare against his own, and the pleasant weight of the hard body over him. "Yuuta," he murmured, exploring the sharp angles and juts of him, beginning to lose track of everything beyond the heat of their bodies against each other and the need spiraling through him. He tipped his head back with a moan as Yuuta's fingers, calloused and rough, slid up the insides of his thighs and closed around him, stroking him slowly. "Oh, God..." Yuuta's eyes were burning, hot and heavy. "Yuuta, please..." He ran his hands over Yuuta's back, over the firm curve of his ass, kneading his skin restlessly.

"Sae..." Yuuta's mouth descended on his again, searing hot, and he reached over them, fumbling for something in the cubby above his bunk. Saeki had just enough time to catch a sharp herbal scent before Yuuta's fingers slid under him, stroking over him, and then teasing into him, slow and more careful than he had thought to expect. Saeki shuddered, and Yuuta swallowed his groan with another kiss.

Saeki gasped for breath at the slow burn of Yuuta's fingers working into him, muscles shivering with the heavy pleasure of it, and he cried out when Yuuta's fingers twisted inside him, sending starbursts exploding behind his eyelids. "Yuuta!" He caught at Yuuta's shoulders. "Do it."

"God, Sae..." Yuuta leaned over him, hands catching him up, spreading him wider against the bunk, and his face was tight with concentration as he pressed into Saeki.

Saeki moaned, shuddering at the slow, rough slide of him, opening him up, and his fingers dug into Yuuta's shoulders as he gulped in breaths of air. "God, oh _God_," he panted, "God, _Yuuta_!"

Yuuta groaned as Saeki flexed up against him, gasping his name, and his hips snapped forward. Saeki cried out again, muscles coming unstrung as relentless heat drove up his spine, gasping nonsense as Yuuta fucked him, hard and fast, and then Yuuta's hand closed around him again, stroking him hard, and he lost track of everything as pleasure whited out his world.

Yuuta was draped over him, limp and breathing heavily, when Saeki's widely-scattered wits began to collect themselves again. "God," he managed, and swept a lazy hand over Yuuta's back.

"Yeah." Yuuta's murmured was satiated, and smug to boot. "Damn."

There didn't seem to be anything more to say than that, so Saeki let himself drift in the aftermath of pleasure, muscles heavy and relaxed under the weight of Yuuta pinning him down. In a bit, he would have to stir himself, and go back to his hammock in the crew's quarters, but as long as Yuuta didn't seem inclined to move, he'd let himself be sluggish and stay. Saeki sighed, and closed his eyes against the brightness of the lamp. He'd say something, in just a moment.

Before he knew it, he was asleep.

* * *

Sometime later—past midnight, perhaps—Saeki woke up, and suffered a moment's panic, trying to recall where he was, before a movement in the dark caught his eye, and reminded him.

He must have made a noise, because Yuuta's voice came drifting through the dark. "Did I wake you up?"

"No, I don't think so." Saeki sat up, the blankets pooling around his waist. Now that he was looking, he could see Yuuta, outlined against the dim light of the window, looking out into the night.

"Ah. A restless sleeper?"

Saeki rubbed his forehead, willing the dull ache that was gathering over his eyebrows to go away. "Not usually. Need to take a piss."

Yuuta's snort carried through the dark clearly enough. "Slop jar's under the bed."

"Thanks." He fished it out and relieved himself; when he was done, he hesitated, wondering whether this was the time to excuse himself and slip below decks to the crew's quarters.

Yuuta interrupted his thoughts. "How's your head?"

"Beg pardon?" Saeki looked up as Yuuta turned away from his windows.

"Your head," Yuuta repeated. "You said before that you don't drink wine because of what it does to your head."

"Still shouldn't drink it," Saeki grunted.

"Sorry." Yuuta sat on the edge of his bunk. "C'mere." In the dimness, Saeki could just barely make out the motion that was Yuuta patting the twisted bedclothes. When Saeki hesitated, Yuuta sighed. "I'm not going to bite you. C'mere."

Saeki sat, and blinked as Yuuta's calloused hands settled on his shoulders, turning him until his back was to Yuuta. "What—"

"It's okay," Yuuta murmured, sliding his fingers up the back of Saeki's neck and resting them over his temples, rubbing them with a gentleness that was, really, more of a shock than anything else that had happened between them since Yuuta had offered him a drink.

When Yuuta didn't do anything else but massage his aching head, Saeki let out a breath and closed his eyes. "Feels good," he offered, uncertainly, as Yuuta's fingers eased some of the ache away.

"I know." Yuuta's fingers moved over his forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles of the frown Saeki hadn't realized he was wearing. "I used to get headaches, when I was little. Yumiko would do this for me."

"Yumiko...?" Saeki echoed.

"My sister. She half-raised the two of us." Yuuta's voice turned wry. "Said we were more interesting than any doll."

"Mmm." Yuuta's fingers were coaxing him back to lean against his chest. They felt good enough that Saeki shifted, willingly, and settled against him. "Is she in the navy, hunting for pirates, too?"

"No," Yuuta said, voice distant. "She died. Childbirth." He laughed, short and bitter. "She loved children. Couldn't wait to have her own. Figures, doesn't it?"

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" Yuuta's fingers were running through his hair, stroking over his scalp. "It happened years ago. Just before I left to go to sea, actually."

"Ah." And just how related to the one had the other been? But he didn't ask. "You would have been a good uncle, I bet," he said, instead.

Yuuta's huff of laughter was warm against his ear. "I'm a terrible uncle," he said. "I don't think any of Shuusuke's brats know my name." He paused. "Well, the one named for me might."

Lulled by the murmur of Yuuta's voice, and with his headache easing away, Saeki spoke without thinking. "You should change that. Maybe after we deal with the _Rose_."

Yuuta's response was quiet. "You know as well as I do that there isn't—"

Saeki reached back, blindly, and stopped him. "Sh. I know. We all know. There's no call to say it."

"Sae—"

"Koujirou," he said. "My name's Koujirou."

He could feel Yuuta's lips moving under his fingers, twisting into what might have been a smile. "Koujirou," Yuuta said, winding his arms around Saeki's chest. "Stay with me tonight?"

"Yeah," Saeki said, again. "Yeah, I'll stay." He twisted around in Yuuta's arms, mouth seeking Yuuta's.

"Good," Yuuta said, against his lips, and they didn't speak any more after that.

* * *

When he woke again, it was morning, and his headache had mostly dissipated. Yuuta was sitting at his desk, staring into space. The door was sliding shut behind Dan, and there was a tray at Yuuta's elbow. Saeki sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Morning," he mumbled. Now what?

"Good morning," Yuuta replied. He gestured at the tray. "Hungry?"

"Always." Saeki climbed out of the bunk and stretched, wincing a little at the protests of muscles stiff from unaccustomed exercise, before hunting around for his breeches and pulling them on.

Yuuta's eyes followed his movements, gleaming faintly with something—appreciation, Saeki decided—and he pushed the tray over to Saeki when he sat. "There's plenty, so eat up."

Saeki looked the tray over and raised an eyebrow at the amount of food on it. "Does Nomura always feed you like this?" he asked, selecting a hard roll and gnawing on it.

"No, he doesn't." Yuuta sounded the faintest bit rueful. "Didn't have to ask for it, either."

"That didn't take long, did it?" He could hardly _wait_ to see his crewmates and hear what they had to say.

"There aren't many secrets on a ship this size," Yuuta agreed. "If anyone—"

"I'll be fine," Saeki said, indistinctly, and swallowed his mouthful. "I can take care of myself."

Yuuta frowned, and sliced a piece of cheese off the chunk on the tray. "I know you can, but they can be..."

"Complete assholes?" Saeki volunteered, when Yuuta didn't finish his sentence. "Yeah, I know."

"I was going to say it more politely than that." But the corners of his mouth had turned up a little.

"I don't see _why_. It's the truth." Saeki shrugged, and pointed at the other roll. "Are you going to eat that?"

* * *

As easy as it had been to pretend insouciance in Yuuta's cabin, Saeki was less certain of himself outside of it.

"Good of you to join us, Saeki," Shishido called, when he finally made it to the deck. "We could use a hand over here, if you don't mind?"

"Aye, sir." He took his place at the capstan, leaning into it.

Next to him, Bane was grinning. "Oversleep this morning?"

"I was up later than usual," Saeki replied, because there was no point in pretending otherwise.

Across the way, Muromachi laughed. "Listen to that, would you? Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth."

"Can think of something else that would," Sengoku leered.

"And what might that be, Sengoku?" came the question from behind them.

Saeki sighed, and frowned at Yuuta, who ignored him completely, all of his attention turned to Sengoku.

Sengoku didn't hesitate. "Ice," he said, promptly. "Ice would definitely melt in his mouth."

"I'm sure you're right," Yuuta said, blandly, and sauntered away.

Sengoku waited until he was decently out of earshot to snicker. "Sure he's sure."

"Actually, not yet he isn't," Saeki told him, smiling. "But thank you for the suggestion."

Bane laughed outright at that. "Let me know if you need any tips."

Saeki snorted. "In your dreams, Kurobane."

* * *

He'd half-expected snide comments about being the captain's pet whore to go along with the more good-natured ribbing, but they never materialized. It was a pleasant surprise that they didn't, so he tried not to question his luck too closely, but when Davide greeted him that evening with a casual, "Enjoy your drink?" curiosity won out over circumspection.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say people were about to shake my hand to congratulate me," he said.

"Congratulate you, hm?" Davide's teeth flashed white. "Thank you, maybe. We'd be congratulating the _captain_ on finally getting you."

Saeki narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, 'finally'?"

David shook his head. "Any idiot could see that the captain has had his eye on you since we hauled your sorry ass on board." He grinned again. "Most of us had bets on how long it was going to take him to get you."

"...say what?" That had to be one of Davide's jokes.

"You should spend more time being sociable with the rest of us," Davide told him. "That way you wouldn't miss these things."

The entire ship knowing that Yuuta had taken him to bed was one thing, but that they had been _betting_ on it... Saeki did his best to ignore the warmth crawling up his face, and asked the only logical question. "Well, who won?"

"Me." Davide's grin turned wider. "Remind me, and I'll buy you a drink next time we're in port." He laughed. "Sengoku says I had an unfair advantage, since I got to watch the captain courting you, but I think he's just a sore loser."

"All of you need better hobbies." Saeki scowled, and went back to the other question Davide's greeting had spawned. "So. Why thank me?"

Davide pursed his lips. "Been a while since we've seen him happy. Since the _Mercury_ went down, probably."

"The _Mercury_?" Saeki echoed.

Davide leveled a look at him. "You think you're the only lover he's ever had? I was pretty sure you weren't that stupid."

"I'm _not_," Saeki retorted. "I'm also don't know what the hell you're talking about half the time, since I've only been on this ship for a few months."

"But you're so charming when you're confused."

"Captain," Davide tipped his head in a nod.

When Saeki turned around to look, Yuuta had his arms folded and there was a twist to his mouth. "Did I get here before or after you told all of my secrets?"

"Before." Davide lifted a shoulder, shrugging. "He ought to know what he's getting into, and I know you don't tell anyone anything if you can help it."

"You're presuming an awful lot on our friendship, Davide," Yuuta said, and Saeki recognized that deadly quiet tone for what it was.

Yuuta's anger didn't ruffle Davide's calm. "I know, Yuuta," he said, without flinching.

Yuuta scowled, and turned on his heel, stalking away.

Davide waited a moment before whistling through his teeth. "Took that well, didn't he?"

"I would have hated to see badly," Saeki muttered.

Davide laughed at that. "Don't blame you." He looked away, staring into the distance. When he spoke again, he was quiet and serious. "What you need to know is this: he's not been what you might call lucky, so it took him a while to say anything to you. You understand?"

He didn't. "Not lucky...?"

"Get the details from him, if he'll tell you. I'm not going to." Davide chewed on his lip for a moment. "I'm just saying that if he needed a drink last night, I don't think it was because he was thirsty."

"You don't, huh?" Saeki frowned, turning the previous night's odd mood over. If that hadn't been _anger_, but something else, channeled into anger... "Complicated, isn't he?"

"He puts a lot of work into it." Davide paused. "Where're you going?"

Saeki grinned over his shoulder. "Where do you think?"

"Good luck," Davide called after him.

Saeki made his way down to Yuuta's cabin, and paused for a moment outside the door. In the end, he shrugged, and let himself in without knocking.

Yuuta was pacing the length of his cabin, muttering softly. He stopped short when Saeki came in. "That didn't take very long. Come for the rest of the story?" he asked, voice sour.

"I don't care about it," Saeki shrugged. "It's not my business, is it?" He moved to where Yuuta stood, and laid a hand against his chest. "I care about what's here, and what's now. Okay?"

Yuuta's mouth thinned. "What's here and now is _crazy_," he said. "We could be dead next week."

"Everyone dies eventually," Saeki said, stepping closer and sliding his arm around Yuuta. "Nothing lasts, remember?"

Yuuta was rigid with tension. "Stay ashore," he said, softly. "Next time we make port. Stay ashore. Please."

"No," Saeki told him. "I can't do that. I _won't_ do that."

"We're on a fool's mission." Yuuta's voice was as taut as his muscles. "You shouldn't—"

"Neither should you," Saeki interrupted, flattening his palms against Yuuta's back, pulling him closer.

"It's personal for me," Yuuta said, his breath warm against Saeki's ear.

"And it's not for me?" Saeki asked. "I'm staying, Yuuta." He pressed a kiss against Yuuta's throat. "We'll make the best of what time we've got. Okay?"

"Damn it, Koujirou..." But Yuuta's hands were coming up, and settling against his back, light and warm.

"That translates into 'Yes, I've seen reason, now let's go to bed,' right?" Saeki murmured.

Yuuta's frame shook in his arms; Saeki decided that it was laughter, and not something else. "Let's go to bed," Yuuta whispered, and Saeki decided that was close enough for the time being.


	6. Chapter 6

Saeki had decided, a day or two out from the little port town that Davide assured him was a hub for most activities frowned on by the crown and navy, that he'd volunteer for watching the ship, rather than tag along with Davide and Bane again.

Considering that decision in retrospect, after Yuuta had bumped into him and muttered, "Stick around, you're coming with me tonight," on the way to give his don't-get-into-too-much-trouble-you're-dismissed speech, Saeki decided he should have known better, and bade his notion of a quiet watch farewell.

"What are you waiting for?" Davide asked, after Yuuta had dismissed him.

Saeki shrugged at him and perched himself on a barrel. "What do you think?" he asked.

"An invitation?" Bane hazarded. "If you are—"

Saeki snorted as Davide elbowed Bane in the ribs. "Nice try, but no."

"Bane, you give new meaning the word 'persistent,' don't you?" Yuuta slung an arm over Saeki's shoulder. "Ready for a night of wenching and drinking, Sae?"

"As ready as I ever am," Saeki said, and grinned at the looks that earned him.

Yuuta threw his head back and laughed. "That's my boy," he said, and swept them off the ship while Davide and Bane gaped.

Saeki chuckled himself, until they reached the end of the docks and Yuuta steered them to the right. Then he eyed the row of brothels. "We aren't really going wenching, are we?"

Yuuta's grin got even wider. "Got a special woman for you to meet," he said, hand firm on the back of his neck.

"Bloody hell, Yuuta, I don't want—" he hissed, but Yuuta was propelling him into one of the buildings.

"Just trust me," Yuuta muttered, and then spread his arms wide as a hulking figured bestirred himself from the chair by the door. "Kiriyama, as grim as ever! How're you doing?"

The man grunted. "Turn over your weapons."

"Of course, of course," Yuuta said, more genial than Saeki had ever seen him, and handed over his pistols and cutlass without a complaint. Saeki followed his example, and the guard waved them along. Yuuta grinned, leading Saeki along the dim hallway. "You know, those are the only four words I've ever heard him say?"

"...take it you come here often," Saeki said.

"Every time I'm in port," Yuuta said, opening a door and ushering Saeki into the room beyond.

Saeki cast his eyes over the room, which was busy with men and women in various states of undress, lounging decoratively on pillows or catering to the collection of potential customers. The air was overheated and thick with perfume; he sneezed, and cast a look at Yuuta. "You couldn't have left me on the _Heron_?"

Yuuta laughed. "Just trust me," he said, quietly.

"Be easier to do if I knew what the hell was going on," Saeki complained, but under his breath as a pair of young men stood, and swooped down on them. "Captain," one purred, taking Yuuta's arm, "it's good to see you again."

The other was prowling around Saeki. "And who have you brought with you?" he asked, trailing a fingertip over Saeki's shoulder.

"He's mine," Yuuta told them, with a smile that was more a baring of his teeth than anything else. "He's here to see the lady with me."

The pair—brothers, or twins maybe, since they looked so much alike—pouted. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather play with us?" they asked.

"Quite sure," Yuuta told them, moving past them, making his way to the bar on the back wall. "Speaking of persistent," he muttered, and raised a hand to the barkeep, signaling for two drinks. "And now, we wait."

"What are we waiting for?" Saeki murmured.

Yuuta grinned. "For the lady to finish whatever she's doing and see us," he said. "Until then, we enjoy the scenery."

"Mm." Saeki accepted his drink—wine, of course—and eyed the circulation of people through the room. He couldn't deny that the scenery was pleasant; apparently Yuuta's taste ran to the high-class. Yuuta himself was watching the room with bright, curious eyes. Saeki sighed, and studied his wine without drinking it, and waited to see what Yuuta was up to now.

Some people had come in, a few others had left, and still more had vanished to another room deeper in the building when the crowd stirred with the entry of a woman, tall and full-figured, with the silk of her gown clinging to every lush curve of her body. She made a beeline straight for them, and when she was in earshot, trilled, "Why, Captain, this is a surprise!"

Yuuta pushed away from the bar, and let her wind her arms around him. "A pleasant surprise, I hope," he purred back, and gave her a lusty kiss.

Saeki drained his glass in one draught, and looked away.

"It's always pleasant to see _you_," the woman cooed.

"Kind of you to say," Yuuta purred. Saeki barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. "I've brought someone to meet you," he added.

"Oh, well, this _is_ new," she said. Saeki pretended not to notice that she was inspecting him, until she set a finger under his chine and turned his face to hers. "Oh, _very_ nice." She smiled. "Why don't we go upstairs and get acquainted, hm?"

Yuuta's boot came down on his toes before he could say _no_. "That sounds perfect, doesn't it, Sae?"

"...absolutely charming," he agreed, a trifle weakly, and allowed himself to be shepherded past the envious glances of other patrons, into another hall, and then up a flight of stairs and into a room dominated by a large bed and a great deal of pink. The woman closed and locked the door behind them, and set her hands on her hips. "You are a very hard man to get hold of, Yuuta," she said, crisp.

"I'm just that good," Yuuta said, with a grin. He perched himself on the bed. "So, tell me what I need to know, Hanamura."

"Don't I always?" she asked, arch, and settled herself on the bed, showing off an impressive amount of leg in the process. "Suppose you introduce me to your slack-jawed friend, first?"

Saeki snapped his mouth shut, belatedly, as Yuuta snickered. "This is Saeki Koujirou. Sae, this is Hanamura, madam and one of the best damn spies I've had the privilege of knowing."

"Flatterer," she murmured, smiling fondly, before turning a sharp pair of eyes on Saeki. "So this is the one who served with Tachibana?"

"As his first mate," Saeki said, and reminded himself of his manners. "Pleased to meet you."

Hanamura laughed. "So formal. Why don't you come over here and sit by me, honey?" She patted the pillows next to her, inviting.

Saeki crossed his arms. "I'm fine standing, thanks."

"I didn't think strait-laced was your type, Yuuta," she said, with another laugh.

Yuuta leaned back on his hands. "Wasn't aware I had a type." He tipped his head back to look at Saeki. "Sit down, Koujirou. We're going to be here for a while." He grinned. "For business, not pleasure, even. Hanamura isn't going to ravish you."

Hanamura pursed her red-painted lips. "Although I could be persuaded to, if you like."

"Hanamura, I leave Shinjou alone, don't I?" Yuuta asked. "Fair trade."

She pouted. "If you insist. Come here, Saeki. You may as well be comfortable while Yuuta and I talk."

Saeki sat, reluctantly, not sure about how comfortable he would be.

"So, you were saying about getting in touch with me...?"

Hanamura's smile disappeared. "I've been trying to get a messenger through to you for a few weeks now," she said. "Your ship has always been a few steps ahead. Normally I'd be proud of you, but..." She sighed, and drew a knee up, clasping her fingers around it. "You've been marked. Yukimura's after you."

Yuuta sat straight up. "Is it—"

She shook her head. "No. It's not us. Not this time. He's just started asking the right questions. He's a canny bastard, you have to give him that much."

Yuuta was strung as tightly as a bow. "How long now?"

"Just over six weeks, now, that I've known he's been hunting you." Hanamura smiled, although there was no warmth in it. "We can be grateful that he hasn't exposed you. I suppose he wants to be sure no one else gets in the way of his killing you himself."

"Funny, but the feeling is mutual." Yuuta ran a hand through his hair. "_Fuck_."

* * *

Hanamura and Yuuta talked steadily for hours, leaving Saeki little to do but listen to the flow of information and speculation, and the turning over of plans—fascinating to listen to, although he had little to contribute. It left him wondering why Yuuta _hadn't_ left him on the ship, or to go with Davide and Bane.

Cryptic as Yuuta was, there was no telling why.

At last, Yuuta settled back on his hands. "That's as good as we can do, I suppose," he said. "I should make simpler plans."

"You wouldn't be who you are if you did," Hanamura said, and her smile was crooked. "Was that a hint that we should move from business to pleasure, Captain?"

Saeki looked up from the pattern he had been tracing out on the bedspread in time to catch the glance Yuuta tossed in his direction. "No," Yuuta said, "we should probably get back to the _Heron_ and turn in."

"Are you sure?" Hanamura purred, leaning forward. Saeki carefully averted his eyes from the creamy expanse of her breasts. "I'm sure that between the two of us, we can get Saeki to loosen up a bit."

"That's assuming that he _wants_ to be loosened up," Yuuta said, dry.

Hanamura's sigh was filled with regret. "Pity."

Saeki shrugged at her, awkward. "...sorry?"

She chuckled. "Oh, don't be. I can see when it's a lost cause." She waved a languid hand. "But I'm sure Yuuta didn't bring you here just to tease you. Do you have people you'd like to have notified, if the worst should happen? If you have a letter written, I can see to it that it gets to them."

"I... thank you," Saeki told her. "I appreciate the offer." Given how likely the worst _was_...

"Thank you, Hanamura," Yuuta said, and slid off the bed. "Ready, Sae?"

"Yes," Saeki said, not without some relief to be going, finally, and stood.

"All right, if you insist on not staying," Hanamura sighed. She rose to her feet, and set her hands on Yuuta's shoulders. "You take care of yourself out there," she murmured, and kissed his forehead.

"I always do," he said, shrugging.

"I know. And as for _you_..." Hanamura rounded on Saeki. "Make sure he stays out of trouble."

Saeki snorted. "Is there anyone who can do that?"

Hanamura smiled. "Oh, probably. If they worked at it." Her eyes lit with a spark of wickedness. "Now, about my fee for this evening..."

Saeki blinked, while Yuuta echoed her. "Your... fee?"

"Yes, my fee," Hanamura murmured. "Did you think you were going to take all of my time and not compensate me, Captain? For shame."

"Hanamura—" Yuuta said, but Hanamura was already winding her arms around Saeki's shoulders, fingers sliding into his hair.

Saeki had just enough time to start to say something—object, perhaps—before Hanamura pulled his face down to hers for a long, thorough kiss that left his knees weak. "Wha—" he said, dazed.

Hanamura's voice was low, pitched for his ears only. "Don't let him tease you _too_ much, honey. And remember that you can always tease him back." And then she was pulling away, fanning herself and smirking at Yuuta. "I do believe that settles us up," she said. "You boys have a good night."

* * *

Yuuta led them back downstairs to collect their weapons, and they were halfway back to the _Heron_ before either of them said anything. "That woman can kiss," Saeki offered, eventually, still a little dazed.

"Yeah. She can," Yuuta replied.

They didn't speak again until Yuuta called for Muromachi to let them aboard the ship, and after that all he muttered was a clipped "Good night," as he stalked away.

Muromachi stared after him. "What's got _him_ in a snit?"

Saeki frowned. "That's a good question. Think I'll go find out."

"You have fun with that," Muromachi said, shaking his head.

Saeki shrugged at him, and went after Yuuta, letting himself into Yuuta's cabin without any fanfare. Yuuta didn't look up, even when Saeki closed the door with a thump, and dropped onto the bunk with a sigh. "I can tell you're angry," Saeki announced, "but I am _fucked_ if I can tell why." He bent over, tugging off his boots.

"I'm not angry," Yuuta said, sounding angry.

"The hell you say." Saeki looked at him, sidelong, and padded over. "If this is you _not_ angry, then I'd hate to see what you're like when you _are_." He rested his hands on Yuuta's shoulders. "Is this about the _Rose_? Or is it about something stupid, like Hanamura?"

"I would _not_ advise you to let her catch you calling her stupid."

The shoulders under his hands were rock-hard with tension; Saeki dug his thumbs into them, trying to relax them and not finding much success. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Hmph."

Saeki continued to knead Yuuta's shoulders. After a moment, he tried a different tack. "Way I figure it, if anyone ought to be angry, it's me."

"And how do you figure that?"

"Hmm, where should I begin? How about being dragged to a whorehouse without so much as a by-your-leave?" Saeki suggested. "I'm in this as deep as you are, Yuuta, but that doesn't mean I know half of what the hell it is you're doing." He was kneading too roughly; he took a breath and relaxed his hands.

"Did you honestly think I had any other reason to go there?" Yuuta's voice was low.

"How would I know?" Saeki asked him. "You didn't tell me a damn thing about what you were doing. For all _I_ know, you actually prefer women, and I'm just—convenient."

Yuuta went stiff under his hands. "Just _convenient_."

Saeki dropped his hands. "Never mind."

Yuuta twisted in his chair to look up at him. "_Convenient_ would be my hand and a rag to clean up with," he said, voice still low, and rough. "_Convenient_ would be having just another man in my crew." He stopped. "You're a lot of things, Koujirou, but convenient is not one of them."

"Yeah?" Saeki said. "Then why the hell do you treat me like I am?"

"How do I—" Yuuta began, indignant.

He ran a hand through his hair, and cut Yuuta off. "If you want to take me along with you when you're out gathering information, fine. I'm glad you do. I like thinking that you trust me that much. But when I don't know what you're doing, or why, all I can assume is the worst."

"...the worst," Yuuta repeated.

"Was I supposed to assume that being taken to a brothel, and watching you greet Hanamura so enthusiastically—" and he couldn't quite keep his mouth from twisting at the memory, "—was _innocent_?"

"In light of what happened after, you were," Yuuta told him.

Saeki took a breath. "Just because it did turn out innocent doesn't mean it didn't—sting." Yuuta stared at him; after a moment, Saeki looked away, crossing his arms. "Go ahead," he sighed. "Tell me I'm an idiot."

"You're not an idiot." Yuuta's voice was quiet. "I took you there because I didn't want you to think I'd go to a whore, Koujirou, and showing is more proof than telling. She's been a contact of mine for a long time, and there were people there who know me, and were watching, and knew to expect me to be enthusiastic. I didn't say anything because I figured you'd realize." He was silent for a moment. "And because I wanted to tease you a little... and... because I wanted to show you off, a little."

He really was an idiot. Both of them were. Saeki unfolded his arms, and gave Yuuta a look, sidelong. "Show me off, huh?"

"A little. Don't go getting a big head about it." Yuuta came to him, and wound his arms around Saeki. "Didn't figure it'd bother you so much. I—"

"Never mind," Saeki said, pulling Yuuta tight against him. "Know what's going on now."

"Good," Yuuta told him. Then he raised his eyebrows. "So you think she can kiss, huh?" He pressed against Saeki, insistently.

Saeki half-smiled, letting Yuuta coax him backwards. "Been a while since I've been kissed like that."

"The hell you say," Yuuta growled, pushing him down onto the bunk.

Saeki grinned up at him. "I do say. Of course, maybe she just kisses so well that I've forgotten."

Yuuta straddled his hips. "Oh? Is that so? Maybe I should remind you."

"Maybe you should," Saeki said, grinning harder, and pulled him down.

"Yeah?" Yuuta breathed, just before his lips touched Saeki's, insistent and coaxing, tongue stroking against his, so slow that it left Saeki breathless. "Remembering anything now?" he asked, breath brushing hot against Saeki's lips.

"Mm." Saeki busied his hands with Yuuta's shirt, seeking the hem and sliding them underneath to stroke warm flesh. "Vaguely."

"'Vaguely,' he says," Yuuta growled. He cupped Saeki's face between broad hands and kissed him again, ruthlessly, tongue twining around his. When he drew back, Saeki found that he was gripping Yuuta's shoulders, fists wound tight in his shirt. Yuuta regarded him for a moment, before his mouth curved up, satisfied. "That's better."

"Sure of yourself, aren't you?" Saeki asked, but he couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face, or his hands from coaxing Yuuta's shirt off.

"Most of the time," Yuuta allowed, voice hitching a little as Saeki ran his hands over the heavy muscle of his shoulders and chest, tracing their outlines. "Have plenty of reason to be."

"At least you're honest about it." Saeki smoothed his hands over Yuuta's ribs, letting them drift down to his slim hips, fingers edging under the waistband of his breeches. "Weren't you supposed to be kissing me?"

"Was I?" Yuuta's eyes gleamed. "I must have gotten distracted." He leaned down again, mouth moving slow and sure against Saeki's, until Saeki had forgotten everything but the sleek heat of Yuuta's kiss, and the warm skin under his hands. "Better?" Yuuta murmured, lips grazing along his jaw.

"Much," Saeki told him, running his hands along Yuuta's stomach and undoing his breeches, working them down Yuuta's hips. He stroked his hands back up Yuuta's thighs, slow and deliberate.

Yuuta groaned in his ear when Saeki drew his fingers down his length. "Koujirou..."

"Yeah?" Saeki fondled him, fingers stroking over soft skin, deliberately slow.

Yuuta's teeth closed on his earlobe. "How come," he began, unevenly, gasping as Saeki's thumb stroked over the head of him, "_I'm_ the one barely dressed when _you're_ the one getting seduced?"

Saeki closed his hand around Yuuta, touch turning firm, and he grinned as Yuuta moaned. "I think," he said, savoring the soft sounds Yuuta made against his ear, "that it's because you're the one getting seduced."

"Oh. As long as we have that straight," Yuuta said, arching into his hand. "_Fuck_, Koujirou...!" He whined a little as Saeki drew his hand away and ran his hands down Yuuta's hips, pushing his breeches the rest of the way down his thighs. "Damn it—"

"Too many clothes," Saeki murmured. "Don't you think?"

"...you might have a point." Yuuta's hands skimmed down his chest, sliding under his shirt and peeling it off in one efficient move. "Was that more like what you were thinking?" he inquired, spreading his hands against Saeki's chest.

"More or less," Saeki agreed, breath catching as Yuuta traced his tongue over one of Saeki's collarbones. "Mm... Yuuta..." He sighed, arching up against the heat of Yuuta's mouth tracking over his chest, breath coming faster against the heat rippling over his skin, and smoothed his hands over Yuuta's thighs, following the shifting muscles over his hips and up the line of his back.

"I thought you were seducing me?" Yuuta's breath whispered across his stomach. He looked up, one eyebrow lifted.

"Didn't want to distract you," Saeki said, with an easy shrug. "You seemed to be doing all right on your own."

"Hmph." Yuuta's tongue squirmed over his stomach, hot and soft enough to almost tickle—and definitely enough to make Saeki's breath catch on a soft oath. "It's a good thing I like cheeky bastards," he said, nipping as Saeki's waist.

"A very good—ah!" Saeki shuddered at the edge of teeth against his skin, all the sharper after the softness of his mouth. "A very good thing," he finished, raggedly, and set his hands on Yuuta's shoulders. "Stop teasing and fuck me, Yuuta."

Yuuta laughed. "And people accuse me of being impatient." Yuuta wriggled over him, kicking his breeches the rest of the way off, and leaned over him, kissing him again while his fingers worked at the fastenings of Saeki's breeches.

"I think I've been plenty patient," Saeki murmured, stroking Yuuta's back. His breath hitched as Yuuta's hand ghosted over him. "_Yuuta_."

Yuuta chuckled, dark. "So be just a little more patient," he said, hooking his fingers in Saeki's waistband and coaxing his breeches down. When Saeki was completely bare, he sat back on his heels, looking at Saeki for a moment, expression unreadable.

"What?" Saeki asked.

Yuuta's smile was lopsided. "I'll tell you later." He rested his hands on Saeki's legs, stroking up them slowly. Saeki spread them wider against the mattress, breath catching at the rasp of calloused fingers over his thighs.

"That just means—" Saeki gasped, voice choked off by the raw heat of Yuuta's fingers closing around him. "Sounds like an excuse not to tell," he tried again, breathing raggedly, hips lifting into the slow touch.

"Would I do something like that?" Yuuta murmured, silky and innocent. Before Saeki could put together an answer, he leaned down and stroked his mouth over Saeki's length.

Saeki moaned, hands catching at the bedclothes and the solid bulk of Yuuta's shoulders as liquid heat lapped over him, stealing his breath and his words. "Ah!" He stared at the timbers above the bunk, not really seeing them, as Yuuta's mouth danced over him, hot and clever and just as wicked as the rest of him. "Oh God... God, _Yuuta_..."

"You like that, Koujirou?" Yuuta's lips were soft, brushing against him, delicate and teasing.

Saeki gathered enough of his wits together to lift his head and give Yuuta a look of flat disbelief. "No, I _hate_ it," he growled. "What do you _think_?"

Yuuta laughed. "Just making sure." He ran his palms over Saeki's thighs and lowered his mouth again, lapping at the head of him, deliberately slow and soft.

Saeki let his head fall back against the pillows as he moaned, gasping for breath as the heat wound around him, so slow and gentle that it built without offering release. "God, Yuuta, stop teasing," he whispered, hips lifting off the bed, seeking more. He groaned when Yuuta pressed them back down. "Yuuta, _please_."

"All right." Yuuta reached away from him, digging through the rumple of blankets for the little jar of balm. "Didn't think I'd ever meet anyone less patient than me."

Saeki narrowed a half-hearted glare at him. "See how patient you'd be, if we switched."

Yuuta grinned at him and didn't answer as he found the jar and twisted it open. "Running low," he noted, entirely too cheerful and unhurried, as the tang of herbs cut through the air.

"So we'll go shopping tomorrow. Yuuta—ah!" Yuuta's fingers closed around him, slick and hot, and he moaned, eyes squeezing shut at the wash of firm pleasure. "Oh _God_!"

"I could watch you for hours." Yuuta's tone was still conversational, but threaded through with a note of husky desire. "The sounds you make. The expressions on your face." The mattress creaked under them as Yuuta's weight shifted, and he touched soft fingers to Saeki's cheek. "Look at me, Koujirou."

Saeki opened his eyes, moan tapering off into a soft, pleading sound as the slick heat of Yuuta's hand left his cock, and looked.

Yuuta prowled over him, mouth curled in a hungry grin. "That's better," he said, softly, and settled over Saeki's hips, reaching down to guide Saeki into him.

Saeki's breath stopped completely as his hips bucked up into that tight heat, and Yuuta moaned above him, head falling back. "Oh, yes," he gasped, lifting himself and driving himself back down against Saeki's hips. "God, _Koujirou_!"

"Fuck, Yuuta—" He ran his hands up the straining muscles of Yuuta's thighs and closed his fingers on Yuuta's hips, guiding them down as the wild heat caught him up. "Oh, _fuck_—"

Yuuta laughed, lean and breathless and golden above him. "That's the idea, yeah," he breathed, and then moaned as Saeki bucked up to meet his hips. "Yes!"

Saeki answered Yuuta's moan with one of his own, hands guiding Yuuta's hips against his, steady and slow, and watched Yuuta's face, open and mobile, every flicker of pleasure showing as it washed over him—transparent here, in this, the way he was nowhere else. "Yuuta," he whispered.

Yuuta looked down, eyes clear and burning. "You, Koujirou," he panted, hands sliding down to cover Saeki's. "Only you have this part of me, I swear!"

Saeki swallowed hard. "Yuuta..." He slid a hand from Yuuta's hip, ghosting his fingertips over Yuuta's stomach, and curled it around Yuuta, slow and sure.

Yuuta groaned at that, a shudder rolling over his body. "Koujirou...!" He arched over Saeki, face gone blank and bright as pleasure took him.

Saeki groaned, hips bucking up against the tightness of Yuuta's body wringing tight around him, caught by the naked pleasure on Yuuta's face, heat plucking at his tight-strung nerves until they came undone and dissolved into his own pleasure.

Yuuta collapsed over him, limp and sweaty and still panting for breath. "You," he repeated, voice barely more than a whisper against Saeki's ear. "Only you, Koujirou."

"Yuuta..." Saeki slid his hands over Yuuta's shoulders, feeling the fine tremors working through his muscles—the aftermath of pleasure, or something else? "Thank you."

"Shouldn't have to thank me for anything," Yuuta muttered, stirring a little. Saeki smoothed his hands over Yuuta's back, and he subsided again, with a short, strained laughed. "Hajime was right. I'm _terrible_ at this."

"Not that terrible." Saeki wrapped his arms around Yuuta. "We're managing all right."

Yuuta snorted. "I'm glad _you_ think so." After a moment, he added, "Are you _laughing_ at me?"

Saeki tried, without much luck, to smother his chuckles. "No."

Yuuta lifted his head to give him a nasty look. "You are such an asshole."

"So're you. Means we match."

"Hmph." Yuuta scowled at him, but settled back down without saying anything else.

Saeki reflected on the pleased gleam that his scowl hadn't quite managed to cover up. After a moment, he said, "Me too."

"Hm?"

"What you said—only me? Only you."

Yuuta was quiet for so long that Saeki began to wonder whether he'd fallen asleep, and if so, how he'd get to the lamp to blow it out without disturbing him. Then Yuuta's arms stole around him, wrapping around Saeki's ribs. "Good," he said, quietly.

There didn't seem to be anything more to say to that, so he snugged his arms more firmly around Yuuta, grinning, and decided that for all he cared, the lamp could burn itself out.

* * *

The remainder of their stay in port was hurried; they took on the first cargo Yuuta could find, half a hold of rum, which caused more than a few raised eyebrows among the rest of the crew. They were too disciplined to ask any questions while in port; Saeki just wondered how many hours they'd be at sea again before the questions started. Before they set sail, he stole a few minutes, and a sheet of Yuuta's parchment, to write a few lines to his family—only a few lines, because there was too much to say and not enough of the right words to say them—and took the letter along when they went to visit Hanamura again to give her an update on the _Heron_'s course.

The morning after—the fifth since they dropped anchor—they set sail again.

"So what's going on?" Sengoku asked, halfway through the morning, when land had long since fallen beyond the horizon.

Saeki gave him a look. "Why are you asking me?"

"You're in the captain's—" Sengoku paused, delicately. "—pocket all the damn time. If anyone knows, you will."

Saeki rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and if he wanted you to know, he'd have told you already."

"Just a hint?" Sengoku wheedled.

"Did _I_ get any hints when I first came aboard?" Saeki retorted.

Sengoku waved a hand. "That was different. We're crewmates now."

"I'm not going to tell you anything, Sengoku. Bother the captain if you're so hellfire bent on knowing."

Sengoku huffed, annoyed. "Fine, maybe I will." He put his mop down and stalked down the deck, planting himself in front of the quarterdeck. His voice carried clearly as he called up to Yuuta, "What in the hell is going on _now_, Captain?"

Yuuta looked up, checking the position of the sun. "Not even noon yet," he noted. "Hey, Shishido, I win."

"How do I let you talk me into these bets?" Shishido grumbled, digging into a pocket and flipping a few coins at Yuuta.

"You're gullible. It's not a challenge." Yuuta made the coins vanish, and sauntered over to the edge of the quarterdeck to look down at Sengoku. "The answer to your question, Sengoku, is that we're being hunted. Yukimura's onto us."

Saeki had only seen Sengoku without a smile once before—and that had been when he'd made the mistake of trying to attack Sengoku's captain. He wasn't smiling now, either. "Onto us? Did someone—"

"Not this time," Yuuta said, and his crew relaxed. Yuuta lifted a shoulder. "No, it seems like Yukimura finally learned to do his math." He spread his hands. "Our cover's shot, so this is gonna be our last run, boys. I trust I don't have to ask you to make it a good one?" He grinned at the ragged cheer that went up. "Didn't think so. Now get back to work."

* * *

"Why," Saeki asked Davide later, "is everyone so worried about being compromised?"

Davide sucked on his teeth. "It's what happened to Mizuki," he said, finally. "Someone turned. Went over to the other side, and sold him and the _Mercury_ out." He scowled. "One of Mizuki's new protégés, way I heard it."

"...beg pardon?" Saeki asked.

"Mizuki was—hm. Half-spy, and half-teacher. He'd take on a few men and train them, and then set them to work." Davide scratched his jaw. "Where I got my start. The captain, too, except that Mizuki saw that he was... well, you know how the captain is. 'S how the captain got a ship of his own, because he was too damn stubborn to be anything _but_ his own man."

Saeki grinned, and added this tidbit to his careful store of information about Yuuta. "I see, now. Makes more sense why everyone worried."

"Yeah. It could happen to us, all too easy." Davide shrugged. "Not that it's going to matter, after we handle the _Rose_. Sounds like we'll have to find something else to do."

"Something'll come up," Saeki said, vague.

Davide's smile was tilted. "Yeah. Of course it will." He rolled his shoulders. "Until then, it's just a waiting game."

* * *

Yuuta had long since blown the lamp out, and his breathing had turned deep and even under Saeki's cheek when Saeki asked his question. "What will you do, if we get out of this alive?" he whispered, not expecting an answer with Yuuta so close to asleep.

"Don't know. Haven't thought that far ahead." Yuuta's voice was furred with sleep, almost dreamy. "You?"

"I don't know either," he confessed.

"You can stay with me. Smuggle rum and hunt pirates together, yeah?" Yuuta rested a hand in his hair, clumsy and heavy. "Like that idea."

"I do too," Saeki murmured.

"'s what we'll do. No pirate anywhere'll be safe." Yuuta sounded content. "So try not to die, okay?"

"Only if you try not to die, either," Saeki told him.

"Too stubborn to die." Yuuta's fingers stroked through his hair. "Go to sleep, Koujirou."

But Saeki didn't, not until long after Yuuta was snoring.


	7. Chapter 7

The waiting finally came to an end one morning when a pounding on Yuuta's door jerked them both awake. "Captain! Captain, a sail!"

They tumbled out of bed. The next few minutes were a hasty jumble of pulling on clothes and swearing, and the distant sound of someone shouting in the crew's quarters.

"If this isn't the _Rose_, someone is going to be in trouble," Saeki muttered, doing up his breeches.

Yuuta laughed, short and strained. "They'd have to _live_ long enough to be in trouble," he said. "Koujirou." Saeki looked up just in time to brace himself against a fierce embrace and Yuuta's mouth on his. "Don't die today," Yuuta ordered.

That was a foolish order, and they both knew it. Saeki pulled Yuuta tight against him anyway. "Don't _you_ die today, either."

"Yes, _sir_." Yuuta's mouth twisted into a shadow of his normal grin, and they looked at each other in silence until someone thundered past the door and broke the moment. "Let's go," Yuuta said.

The sail on the horizon was barely more than a speck. Shishido handed Yuuta the spyglass without comment when he reached the rails. Yuuta squinted through it. "...looks like her," he said. "She'll have to get closer." Then he stopped, and motioned Saeki forward from the rest of the crew. "You've seen her close. What do you think?"

Saeki took the spyglass and peered at the distant ship, studying the lines of her, frowning. At last, he lowered the spyglass. "That's the _Rose_," he said, certain of it.

A sigh rippled through the rest of the crew; beside him, Yuuta exhaled. "All right," he said, softly, eyes fixed on the distant speck that was the _Rose_. "All right." He whirled away from the rail to begin barking orders. "I want the deck cleared of everyone but the last watch. The rest of you, get below and wait for my orders."

"Aye, Captain!" They hustled below. Shishido added his own orders to Yuuta's, calling for them to check over the cannons and powder, and haul crates of guns and shot out of the hold. He kept them moving, too busy to huddle together or think about what was to come.

Nomura moved among them as they worked and waited, distributing a cold breakfast. Saeki forced himself to eat, chewing and swallowing mechanically, since God only knew when he'd see another meal.

The minutes ticked past slowly, even with the bustle, until the shout came down. "All hands on deck!"

The sun was at a more respectable angle in the sky, and the _Rose_ had gained distance on them. "Put on the sails, boys," Yuuta called. "Make it look like we're trying to outrun her."

Saeki fell in next to Davide, whose eyes were dark with short sleep. "Think they're going to buy it?" Saeki asked, more to occupy his mind than out of real curiosity.

"Yukimura's like a shark," Davide grunted. "If he smells blood in the water, he'll attack."

As her sails unfurled and caught the wind, the _Heron_ leapt ahead in the water. Yuuta called out corrections to her heading, bringing her about so that her sails couldn't take the fullest advantage of the wind. Hobbled like that, she wallowed in the water, and the _Rose_ closed the distance between them rapidly.

The _Heron_'s crew watched, and waited, tension winding through them as the pirate ship drew closer.

Predictably enough, Akutsu was the one who snapped first. "Fuck this!" He planted himself in front of Yuuta. "Are we just gonna let them chase us down? Is that your plan, you lunatic?"

"Of course it isn't," Yuuta said, unruffled by the heat of Akutsu's glare or his insubordination, or the fact that every pair of eyes on the deck were fastened on him.

"Then what _is_ the plan?" Sengoku drawled. "Assuming that there is one?"

"We're going to wait till she's too close to outrun us, and then we're going to turn and chase her," Yuuta said. "And then we're going to close with her, and hold her."

"Because there's so much to spend your pay on in hell," Sengoku said.

"No, because the _Dragonfly_ has been following our course for the past fortnight," Yuuta corrected him, serenely.

Bane was the first to break the hush that fell after that. "You are one crazy son of a bitch," he said.

Yuuta's grin was cocky. "Don't talk about my mother like that. Now get back to work, boys. I want them a little closer than this."

They fell back to work, tension eased somewhat. "Did you know about this?" Davide asked, during a moment's pause.

"Not all the details, no. Knew he had a plan, though." Saeki shot a glance up to the helm, where Yuuta was presiding, and keeping an eye on the _Rose_. "Know he's pretty sure this'll take Yukimura down."

"You know whether he thinks Fuji can get here in time keep us from going down with Yukimura?" Bane asked, voice hushed.

Saeki shrugged at him, declining to answer. From the way Bane's expression went tight, that was enough of an answer in its own right.

At midmorning, the _Rose_ crossed what ever arbitrary line Yuuta had drawn in his mind—or, possibly, Yuuta liked the way the wind had shifted. "All right, it's time to show those pirate bastards what we can really do," he called. "Let's bring her around, boys."

The _Heron_ creaked as they hopped to the lines and Yuuta brought her prow around, surging forward like she was glad to shuffle off the artificial constraints. The _Rose_ kept her own course to meet them, until a starburst of green broke across the clear sky above them.

Yuuta's laughter rang out over the startled oaths of his crew. "Have to get the _Dragonfly_'s attention somehow, don't we?" he shouted.

Ahead of them, the _Rose_'s course changed as her captain smelled the trap.

They were all crazy, Saeki thought, working as feverishly as the rest of them to coax the maximum speed out of their ship. This plan was crazy, balanced as delicately as a house of cards, depending on Fuji to be close enough to intervene and their being able to stand down the _Rose_'s crew—and they were trying anyway. He couldn't decide what that said about them, or Yuuta.

Yuuta fired off more fireworks, periodically, either to mark the shifts in their course or to rattle the _Rose_—maybe both, given his personality—and crowed as the _Heron_ gained on the _Rose_. His excitement was infectious, and even his order to bring the crate of guns up to the deck only lent an edge to the energy running through the crew.

"Another sail, Captain!" Sengoku sang out from the crow's nest, and every head on the ship turned to follow his pointing finger.

Saeki found himself shouting with relief like the rest of them—it _was_ going to work, crazy as it was. He looked to Yuuta, and saw that he was squinting at the distant sail, and checking the horizon with a faint frown.

Saeki didn't have time to ponder what that meant, because Sengoku shouted again. "The _Rose_, Captain!"

She had seen the sail, too, and Saeki marveled at how such a large ship could manage to pirouette so gracefully, coming around to meet them.

Yuuta began snapping out names, ordering men below to the cannons. Saeki's wasn't among them; he was left on deck with a handful of others, manning the sails and watching the _Rose_ loom larger and larger.

"Captain...?" Momoshiro called out, voice rising on an uncertain note.

"Easy, boys," Yuuta called back, grinning. "We're not going to ram her... this time."

Saeki half-listened to the mutterings around him, eyeing the range between them and the _Rose_, which was dwindling rapidly, and picked up his rifle. He shouldered it, and sighted down the length of it, thoughtfully.

"Are you crazy?" Davide demanded. "For God's sake, don't waste—"

Saeki pulled the trigger, and smiled as someone on the _Rose_'s deck went down. "What was that, Davide?" he asked, fingers moving fast as he talked, reloading.

"Don't waste time reloading, take mine." Davide relieved him of the rifle, and handed Saeki his own. "Keep shooting."

Saeki grinned and took aim again, feet braced wide against the deck. He squinted, and fired, and hissed with satisfaction as whoever was at the _Rose_'s helm fell, and the _Rose_ yawed away from them.

"Nice shot!" Yuuta yelled, bringing them around. Saeki's shouted reply was lost as the _Heron_'s deck shuddered as the cannons thundered below.

The _Rose_'s discipline held, and she returned fire, though most of her shots went wide. Her crew lined the rail, shouting; a few had the presence of mind to shoot back as Saeki picked another of their number off.

And then the two ships were past each other.

"Why didn't you _say_ you were a sharpshooter?" Davide demanded, as they began to come around for another pass.

"It never came up," Saeki told him, grinning.

"Get Dan up here," Yuuta called. "He can load guns just as well as Davide can."

Saeki considered the higher vantage point on the quarterdeck, and climbed up to join Yuuta. "Clearer view," he said, when Yuuta raised an eyebrow at him.

"I see," Yuuta murmured, as Dan came scrambling up from below. "Dan, keep Koujirou loaded, will you?"

"Aye, Captain!"

Saeki took the moment's breathing space to scan the horizon for the _Dragonfly_—getting closer, good. Then he looked again, and frowned. "Yuuta, that's not—" Yuuta shook his head, sharp and angry, and Saeki shut his mouth on the rest of what he had been about to say.

If Yuuta didn't want to announce that it wasn't the _Dragonfly_, that was his prerogative. The rest of the crew would realize it, soon enough.

"Just shoot as many of them as you can, huh?" Yuuta told him, as they closed on the _Rose_ again.

Saeki nodded. "Aye, Captain." He looked down and ruffled Dan's hair. "You ready, kid?"

Dan nodded, resolute. "Of course I am."

Then they were on the _Rose_ again, cannons roaring and the _Heron_ shivering as the _Rose_ returned fire, more accurately this time. Someone below screamed; Saeki winced as he methodically took aim and shot, picking off one of Yukimura's crew, wounding another, and winging a third before they were out of range again.

"It's too bad we can't just let you shoot them all," Yuuta grunted.

"I'd love it to be that easy," Saeki agreed, eyes straining after the ship that wasn't the _Dragonfly_, trying to make out whether she was navy, or something else. The glare on the water was too bright to mark her colors; he cursed softly.

"Where the hell'd you learn to shoot like that?" Yuuta asked him, bringing them about again.

"Got an uncle who didn't go to sea. He taught me," Saeki shrugged. "Liked to go hunting."

"Huh." Yuuta raised his voice. "All right, boys, this is the last pass! Ready the grappling hooks!" He laid a hand on Saeki's shoulder as he started forward. "Koujirou, you stay back. Shoot as many of them as you can."

Saeki started to protest, but the look in Yuuta's eyes forbade it. "All right," he said, resigned, and spared a final look at the mystery ship.

The two ships closed again; the _Rose_ had evidently got the range of them, because her cannons opened fire sooner, much more accurately than before. Yuuta shouted with rage when the chain shot came screaming over the _Heron_'s bows, cracking into the mast with deadly accuracy. The mast groaned in protest, but held for the last crucial seconds, and the sturdy timbers only cracked and gave way when the entire ship shuddered as Yuuta brought the _Heron_ crashing into the _Rose_.

"Board them!" Yuuta roared at his crew, as he snatched up one last firework and set it off before diving down to the main deck, brandishing his sword. His crew roared back at him as red sparks burst against the clear sky, and the cannons spoke again as grappling hooks went sailing through the air, catching against the _Rose_'s rails.

Saeki ignored the shouting, aiming and shooting as fast as Dan could load the rifles, as the two crews swarmed each other—it was difficult to tell who was boarding whom, as men shouted curses over the crack of gunfire and the screams of the wounded and the dying.

In the corner of his mind that wasn't wholly absorbed by shooting and reloading, Saeki wondered where the hell the _Dragonfly_ was.

As if in response to his thoughts, a cry went up from the _Rose_. "Captain, a sail!" Saeki whipped around to find it—yes, to the west, from their original heading. "Navy, captain!"

Yuuta's crew roared again, surging forward, which was all well and good, Saeki thought, distantly, but they were outnumbered. There was no way the _Dragonfly_ was going to get to them in time to do anything but mop the _Rose_ up, or deal with the mystery ship.

But then, everyone aboard the _Heron_ knew that.

Saeki shot again, dropping the burly pirate menacing Momoshiro, and held out his hand to Dan for a freshly loaded rifle.

When Dan failed to provide it, he looked around, and cursed.

Dan was studying the red spreading across his chest, eyes wider than usual. "It doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would," he said, absently, and pitched forward into Saeki's arms. "Jin's gonna be _pissed_," he added.

"No, he won't," Saeki told him, mouth dry.

Dan laughed. "You don't know him as well as I do," he whispered, eyes sliding shut.

Saeki eased him down to the deck, and picked up his rifle to load it himself. As he stood, something brushed his temple. He flicked at it impatiently. When he brought his fingers away, they were wet and sticky.

So that's how it was. He smiled grimly, and took cover behind the helm, picking out his next target. Someone had finally realized he was up here, picking them off.

Akutsu was in a four-way brawl; Saeki evened it out to three ways, and barely flinched as a shot splintered the wood next to his elbow. Instead, he scanned the _Rose_'s deck, looking for his next shot—there. That one, standing in a puddle of calm like the eye of a hurricane, calling out orders to his crew, the one he'd missed, last time, when the _Otohime_ had been dying.

Saeki took aim, careful, and smiled with grim satisfaction to see red blooming against that white shirt.

Yukimura's circle of calm collapsed as he folded in on himself. Saeki didn't bother to watch, busy reloading his rifle and looking for his next shot.

Something punched into him, half-turning him; pain bloomed bright in his shoulder, and then again, in his side. "Fuck," he breathed, rifle slipping out of nerveless fingers, and then his knees gave out and he toppled over.

The blood was roaring in his ears—sounded almost like Yuuta yelling. Wasn't that funny? Saeki closed his eyes, and sighed as he slid into darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

"Young man, I don't care _who_ you are. If you don't stay in bed, I will _personally_ break one of your legs to keep you there."

That was a dire thing to wake up to, Saeki decided, thoughts muzzy and confused.

"You know, Captain, if you don't like having a cabin all to yourself, you can trade spots with me."

"Shut up, Sengoku."

And that was reassuringly normal. Saeki pried gummy eyelids open, and stared dizzily at an unfamiliar set of timbers. After a moment, he decided that he could probably manage speaking. "Who hates me so much that I'm rooming with Sengoku?" he asked. "Or is this just hell?"

Whatever he was laying on dipped under additional weight, and Yuuta's face came into view. He had a plaster running across one cheek, and bruises darkening his eye. "Look who's awake," he said.

Saeki decided that Yuuta's grin didn't do much to disguise the worry in his eyes. "Hey," he whispered, and decided that if he was hurting this much, he probably wasn't dead. "...glad you're not dead."

Yuuta's fingers circled around his. "Yeah. Me too."

"If you're not going to move Sengoku, move _me_? So I don't drown in the sap?" came a querulous whine.

"Shut up, Bane," Davide's voice growled.

Saeki huffed at that, eyes getting heavy again. He struggled to keep them open. "So tired."

"So rest," Yuuta told him, squeezing his fingers. "Rest and get better."

"Aye, Captain," he said, and drifted back to sleep against the sounds of Bane and Sengoku bickering.

* * *

He woke again while someone was changing his bandages, to a dull pain that throbbed in time to his heartbeat. "Nngh."

"Awake again, are you?" Kind eyes in a vaguely familiar face looked down at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Hurts," he said, and winced at the tug of a bandage pulling tight.

"Wounds tend to do that," the man—no, _doctor_, the _Dragonfly_'s doctor, that's right—said. "It's good. Shows you're healing."

"Nn." Saeki was silent, until Whatsisname finished the bandages. "Thirsty, too," he volunteered.

"Are you?" Whatsisname smiled. "That's good. I'll be back."

"How come you're so much nicer to him than the rest of us, Doc?" Sengoku asked.

"It's because he hasn't given me nearly as much trouble as the rest of you have." Whatsisname returned, and slid a hand under Saeki's head to help him drink. His shoulder protested the movement; Saeki ignored it. "Not so fast, now," the doctor murmured.

Saeki sighed as the cup went away and Whatsisname eased him back down. Everything throbbed with pain. "Thanks."

"Mm. Rest some more, if you can."

Saeki didn't think that was likely, with the ragged edge of pain crawling over his nerves, but it began to ease off and his thoughts started to fragment. The last thing he remembered thinking before sleep claimed him again was that there must have been something in the water.

* * *

Yuuta's fingers were in his hair when he woke again, although he was carrying on a spirited debate with Sengoku. "And _I_ said it was going to be _three_ months of double pay, not six."

"Think of it as severance pay." Sengoku's voice was wheedling. "Since we don't exactly have a ship any more."

Ah. There was that question answered.

Saeki watched Yuuta's mouth tighten. "The bonus for taking the _Rose_ is severance pay."

"Well, what about the bonus for taking Yukimura?"

"That's mine, so keep your paws off it," Saeki announced.

There was a brief, startled silence. Yuuta looked down at him, mouth easing somewhat. "Didn't realize you were awake."

"Mm. I am." Saeki sighed as Yuuta's fingers stroked his forehead.

"Wonderful for you. Getting back to the subject of bonuses—"

"I shot Yukimura fair and square," Saeki interrupted Sengoku.

Yuuta snorted. "I'll settle up with you later," he promised.

There was an injured huff. "Well, damn."

"Better luck next time, Sengoku," Davide drawled, sounding amused.

"Fuck, do I _look_ crazy? I know when not to tempt the lucky," Sengoku said. "It's time I called it quits and opened up that tavern I've been meaning to. My severance pay should cover the cost of it nicely."

"And again I ask—_what_ severance pay?"

Saeki listened to them wrangling, drifting in the fog of drugs that were keeping the pain of his wounds at bay, and the pleasant feeling of Yuuta's fingers stroking his hair. Later, he'd have to ask who hadn't been lucky, and what had happened to the _Rose_, and what happened next, now that the _Heron_ was gone.

Later.

* * *

Whatsisname turned out to be called Oishi, and was by turns kind and briskly gruff. The gruffness came out most clearly with his other patients, and he took to chasing the liveliest of them out of the cabin at every opportunity, saying that the exercise would do them good. As he spent less time sleeping, Saeki privately decided that it did _Oishi_ good not to have Sengoku heckling him, and Bane bickering with him. He sympathized completely.

It was the four of them in a cabin—an officer's cabin, by the looks of it. When he asked, Davide confirmed that it was the first mate's cabin.

"And why are we in it?" Saeki asked, peering across the way at him.

Davide shrugged. "Doc said he wanted the worst injured of his patients in one place." He patted the bandage on his leg, absently. "Said it made taking care of us easier."

Bane snorted. "You mean that he wanted us nearby so he wouldn't have to get too far from Sae," he corrected Davide.

"Whatever."

Saeki chewed on his lip, and tried to ask the question he'd been worrying over. "How many—" he started, and then stopped and tried again. "Who—"

Davide took pity on him. "Us, of course. The captain, although it was a near thing getting him to give it up and go."

"Shishido," Bane added. "He got Momo and Ohtori out of there, too."

"Nomura," Davide added, "Ishida, and Mori."

Eleven, of a crew of nearly twenty. "Ah," Saeki said.

Davide and Bane didn't say anything until Saeki cleared his throat and asked the next question. "What happened?"

"Guess you were too busy bleeding to see, huh?" Davide asked.

"I must have been," Saeki agreed. "Suppose you tell me what I missed?"

"Not all that much," Bane told him. "We managed to keep the _Rose_ busy until reinforcements showed up." He made a face. "Fuji was a little late, but the _Polaris_ was just in time."

Saeki blinked. "The _Polaris_?" He was pretty sure that hadn't figured into Yuuta's plans.

"Tezuka's ship, yeah." Bane grinned. "Fuji must have called in some favors, or maybe the commodore just wanted a shot at getting even with Yukimura."

"He kept the _Rose_ busy, and the _Dragonfly_ got us the hell off the _Heron_." Davide sighed. "And then they pounded the living hell out of the _Rose_... And that was that."

"Any survivors?" Saeki asked.

Davide's smile was thin. "We didn't take prisoners."

"Good." Saeki studied the timbers above his borrowed bunk. There had to be more to the story than that, he thought, things that Bane and Davide weren't saying. That was fine. He'd get the rest of the story from Yuuta, later.

Bane hauled himself to his feet with a grunt. "I'm going to get some air," he announced.

"Lucky bastard," Davide told him, making a face. Bane laughed at him and limped out.

Saeki was trying to find a more comfortable position when Davide spoke up. "Captain just about lost his shit when he saw you go down," he said, voice quiet. "Went completely nuts."

Saeki stopped, mid-wriggle. "He did?" Maybe he wouldn't have to ask Yuuta for more details after all. "What happened?"

Davide told him the rest of the story: how Yuuta had gone berserk, fighting like a madman, and how he'd refused to leave the ship until Bane had gone up to the quarterdeck to haul Saeki down. "Not," Davide said, "that we thought there was a reason to, but if it got him to see reason..." He shrugged.

"How lucky for me," Saeki murmured. "...Bane? Really?"

"Yeah, really. How do you think he got those cracked ribs?" Davide paused. "It was him and Akutsu, actually. Akutsu held the deck for him, and wouldn't go with the rest of us." He studied his fingers. "Always knew he'd go out in a fight."

Saeki blew out a breath. "...damn," he said.

"Yeah," Davide said, and went quiet for a moment. "And the captain was the one who told Fuji to open fire on the _Heron_, once we were clear of her."

Saeki closed his eyes, wondering how much it had cost Yuuta to do that to the ship he'd loved. "I see."

"Yeah. She was a good ship," Davide murmured.

They fell quiet again, until Saeki asked, "So what happens now?"

Davide's chuckle was rusty. "Wish I knew."

* * *

Evidently, Davide didn't like uncertainty. "So, Captain, what're we going to do next?" he asked the next time Yuuta came in to visit. Yuuta didn't respond as he dragged a chair over to Saeki's bunk, so Davide pressed on. "Get a new ship, right? A better one—not that the _Heron_ wasn't a damn good ship—and kick some more pirate ass? Sounds good, eh, Captain?"

"Shut up, Davide." Yuuta looked tired. "You don't have to call me 'Captain' any more, either. I don't have a ship, and Shuusuke's loaning me the money to settle up with all of you, so for now, I'm just another sailor."

Davide didn't pause. "All right, so you've got some debt to pay off first. We'll—"

Saeki was in a better position to see the look on Yuuta's face. "Shut up, Davide," he said himself, cutting off whatever scheme Davide had to propose.

Yuuta smiled a little at that, but it never reached his eyes. "We'll be making port in a few days. I'll settle up with everyone then, and you'll be free to sign with another ship. Shuusuke says he'll take all of you, if you want to sign on with him. That's what I'd do, if I were you."

"What are you doing?" Saeki asked.

"I don't get a choice." Yuuta shrugged, picking at a seam on his coat. "Shuusuke has decided that since it's been a while, I have to go home and visit Mother. He's putting me on the first ship going that direction that he can find."

"Huh. Really?" Davide asked.

"Not much point in keeping it a secret, is there?" Yuuta asked, shrugging. "He says he'll tie me up and have me carried on board if he has to." He laughed, short and forced. "So anyway. Sign on with Shuusuke. As long as you're not his brother, he'll do well by you."

"Even for a guy with a bad leg?" Davide asked, grinning.

"Oishi keeps telling you that you'll be good as new," Saeki told him. So that was it? Sign on with Fuji, now that they'd done what they'd set out to do?

"And Shuusuke says that any man who I thought was good enough for my crew is more than good enough for him," Yuuta said. "He'll have you, bad leg and all."

Davide sucked in a breath through his teeth. "I'd rather sail with you, Yuuta."

Yuuta spread his hands. "If I had a ship..." He shrugged, and let them drop again. "But I don't, and that changes everything."

Everything, huh? Saeki bit the inside of his cheek.

Davide grunted. "If you ever make it to sea again, look me up."

"Of course I will." Yuuta crossed his arms. "There you have it. That's what happens next."

"Hm." Davide went quiet, but his silence had a thoughtful tone to it. "Is your brother going to spring for two berths on that ship, or is he going to make Sae pay his own way?"

"Say what?" Yuuta stared at Davide.

"Well, he's no fit sailor in his condition," Davide observed. "It'll be months before Sae's well enough for duty again, and Fuji can't be generous enough to haul him around until he is."

Yuuta scowled. "That may be, but I can't ask him to go haring off across the ocean with me."

"...why not?" Saeki asked, since it was no good letting them talk over him like he wasn't even there.

"Yeah, why not?" Davide was obviously enjoying himself entirely too much for Saeki's comfort. "Sounds like he wants to be asked to me."

Yuuta looked at Saeki, eyes searching. "I don't know when I'll get back to sailing," he said. "_If_ I'll get back to sailing."

"So?" Saeki retorted.

"Sailing's in your blood," Yuuta said. "You love the ocean."

Saeki felt his mouth curling. "No," he murmured. "Not the ocean."

It took a moment, but this time, Yuuta's tiny smile made it to his eyes. "I see." He paused. "You want to come with me?"

"Yeah," Saeki said. "I do."

* * *

Once the _Dragonfly_ made port, Fuji lost no time in finding them passage on another ship. Yuuta came below the very same evening to tell Saeki, "You'd better brace yourself. We're moving to the _Contemplation_ first thing in the morning."

"That didn't take long," Davide observed. "Guess they'll be kicking me out of here, too," he added, dolefully. "And here I was getting used to living like an officer."

"You're going soft," Saeki told him. "Going back to the crew's quarters will be good for you."

"Hah. Like you're one to talk," Davide retorted. "How long has it been since you slept in your own hammock?"

"Enough," Yuuta interrupted, before they could begin wrangling with each other in earnest. He took a wallet from his breast pocket. "The _Contemplation_ is sailing with the morning tide, so I'm here to settle up."

Davide lost his smile. "He's serious about seeing to it that you go home."

"Very serious." Yuuta rifled through the wallet, and handed Davide a packet. "Think that makes us even."

Davide accepted it and tucked it away without checking the contents. "You're one of the best I've ever sailed with, Captain," he said. "Don't let yourself get landlocked."

"I'll do my best not to. Run away again, if it comes to that." Yuuta laughed a little, and dug out a second wallet. "Here's your pay, Sae," he said.

"I'll try not to spend it all in one place," Saeki told him.

Yuuta snorted, and ruffled his hair. "Do that. And get some sleep. Tide's going out early tomorrow, so they're moving us at first light."

"I'll do what I can," Saeki agreed, and kept his expression solemn until Yuuta was out of the cabin. "...if he keeps fussing like that until I'm healed up, I may have to kill him."

Davide laughed. "It's the novelty of you not being dead. Once he gets used to it, he'll settle down."

"I certainly _hope_ so," Saeki muttered.

"He will," Davide assured him, settling back against his pillows. "You're going to have to keep him out of trouble now," he said, suddenly serious. "Since I won't be around to do it for you."

"And just how am I supposed to do that?" Saeki asked, amused.

Davide looked up at the ceiling, studying it. "Just remember that he'd keep secrets from himself, if he could. Hell, he probably _can_, and _does_. So if he doesn't tell you something, it's from habit. Okay?"

Oh. _That_ kind of trouble. "I'll remember."

"Good. And when you're fit for it again, get him back to the ocean," Davide instructed.

"Aye, aye, sir." Saeki mock-saluted.

Davide leaned over to snag Bane's pillow, and slung it at him. "Asshole. Here I am, trying to give you good advice—"

Saeki picked the pillow off of his face and tried to throw it back; his wounds protested sharply and it fell short. "Ow, fuck!"

"Serves you right," Davide told him.

Saeki blinked watering eyes. "If you say so," he wheezed.

"Mm." But Davide didn't offer any more advice. "I expect you two'll manage," he said, a while later.

Saeki hoped he was right.

* * *

Transferring from the _Dragonfly_ to the _Contemplation_ was arduous, involved two of Fuji's burliest deckhands, a litter, a great deal of swearing, and rather more pain that Saeki had anticipated. He was in no condition to appreciate the cabin that Fuji had secured for them, once he was finally settled in his bed, but Yuuta was, and prowled through the stateroom, examining every inch of it. "Just how much money did you spend on this?" he demanded.

Fuji waved a hand, as his men hauled a pair of trunks in after them. "Not as much as you think. Enjoy it, Yuuta. You've earned the right to indulge yourself a bit."

"I've been indulging myself," Yuuta muttered. "It's Goddamn _boring_."

Saeki wasn't too busy trying to breathe carefully that he didn't notice the flick of Fuji's eyes in his direction. "If you say so," he murmured. "The cabin is paid for, it's no less than my baby brother deserves, and unfortunately for your temper, there is not a thing you can do about it."

"I'll pay—"

"And besides," Fuji carried on, blithely interrupting Yuuta, "I thought that it would help Saeki's recovery to have the best cabin available."

Yuuta opened and closed his mouth a few times. When he finally recovered his voice, it was strangled. "You fight dirty."

Saeki noted, privately, that it must run in the family.

Fuji smiled. "Of course I do. Now shut up and enjoy your voyage, little brother, and give my love to everyone."

"Hmph." Yuuta embraced his brother fiercely, despite his ire. "I will. Stay safe, Shuusuke."

"Always."

After Fuji showed himself out, Yuuta blew out a breath. "Well," he said to the air, "here we are."

"Yep," Saeki rasped.

Yuuta was leaning over him before he quite knew it. "Are you all right?"

"I just got jostled over a quarter-mile of docks," Saeki told him, batting at the hand resting on his forehead. "What do you think?"

"Do you need something?" Yuuta asked, instantly. "Oishi gave me some medicine, and Shuusuke says this ship has a doctor—"

"I'll be fine," Saeki told him. "Not moving is helping."

"If you do—"

"I'll say," Saeki told him, and couldn't quite keep the exasperation out of his voice.

Yuuta laughed, self-deprecating. "I'm annoying you, huh?"

"A little." Saeki raised his eyebrows as Yuuta sat himself on the mattress next to him. "Yuuta...?"

"...thought you were dead," Yuuta said, softly. "Thought I'd lost you, too, Koujirou." His fingers were warm and rough against Saeki's cheek.

"You didn't, though," Saeki reminded him.

"I know." Yuuta brushed a fingertip over the curve of his mouth. "How did I get so damn lucky?"

"Sengoku finally rubbed off on you."

Yuuta laughed again. "Maybe that's it." He leaned down and kissed Saeki. "Whatever it is, I'm glad."

Saeki brought his good arm up, and circled it around Yuuta's shoulders. "Me too," he agreed. "Stay here?"

"Okay," Yuuta agreed. "I'll stay."


	9. Chapter 9

"I can walk, you know," Saeki said, as Yuuta dickered for a spot on the cart that was going to deliver their trunks to—wherever it was that they were heading. In all the long months of the ocean crossing, he'd never quite gotten Yuuta to say.

"So can I, but that doesn't mean I _want_ to," Yuuta told him. "It's a good three miles."

"I see." Three miles might be more than he wanted to walk, too, he decided, resting his hand over the scar under his shirt. Healed, yes. Recovered all the way, no.

Yuuta concluded his negotiations, evidently to his satisfaction, because he grinned and motioned Saeki onto the cart with the trunks, and swung himself up after. After the drover had concluded a few other matters, the cart lurched into motion.

Saeki kept himself busy watching the town roll past, busy with people and animals. It was no good wishing for a clean salt breeze to wash away the noise and the smell, he reminded himself. Not yet, anyway.

Fortunately, they left the busiest parts of town behind soon enough, rolling through thinning houses and then out into open countryside.

"I'd forgotten how green it is," Yuuta said, after they'd been traveling for a bit.

"It's different," Saeki agreed. "How much further—"

"Not too much further," Yuuta said, leaning back against a trunk. "My great-something grandfather didn't like towns very much, so he built out in the country."

There were still houses frequently enough that it didn't look very country to Saeki, but he'd grown up in a town, so what did he know?

The drover twisted in his seat and called back, "Is the lane coming up the one you were wanting?"

Yuuta raised himself up and looked, and called an affirmative. He settled back down, and shrugged at Saeki. "Town started growing, of course," he added. "We've still got a little ways, though."

"Mm." Saeki leaned back against the trunks as they turned into a tree-lined lane, and looked up at the branches passing overhead, falling into a half-doze. The cart jerking to a stop woke him up again. "Here?" he asked, yawning and opening his eyes—and stopping mid-stretch to stare.

He'd known, or suspected anyway, that Yuuta's family had been well-off. Tachibana had made plenty of money in trade, and Fuji was, after all, a captain for the navy, and officers' commissions did not come cheap. He had _not_ expected extremely wealthy, as demonstrated by the imposing house before him, set on immaculate grounds.

"Horrible, isn't it?" Yuuta asked, catching him staring. He hopped out of the cart, helping the drover unload the trunks. "Swear I don't know what my great-whatsit grandfather was thinking."

"...it's certainly something," Saeki agreed, dazedly.

Yuuta looked at him, eyes sharp. "Koujirou—" he began, but the sounds of distant shrieks (rapidly growing louder) distracted them both. "What on earth—"

A collection of children came pounding around the side of the house, whooping loudly and so intent on their game that the foremost of them was upon them before he noticed Saeki and Yuuta, and skidded to a stop on the neatly-raked gravel. Not everyone in the little band was as observant, and for a moment the shouting redoubled as various small persons collided with each other.

"This wasn't quite the welcoming committee I'd imagined," Yuuta muttered, fielding the boy who'd been knocked into him.

"Who're you?" the boy demanded, shaking Yuuta's hand off and eyeing them suspiciously.

"Your uncle, I expect," Yuuta told him. "Which one are you, then—Hayao or Yuuto?"

One of the smallest girls spoke up. "Our uncle's dead. We got a letter." She eyed him. "You don't even look like Uncle Kippei."

"Your _other_ uncle," Yuuta sighed.

That set off a hasty conference of "Do we have another uncle?" and "Mama never said—" and "Of course we do, it's the one in the hall."

Saeki covered his laugh with a cough, while the drover grinned. Yuuta waited for the hubbub to die down. When it didn't, he sighed, and interrupted. "I don't suppose your grandmother or grandfather might be able to sort this out?" he inquired.

That set off another stir, but the eldest boy nodded and took charge of the chaos. "Yuuto, go find Mama," he said, and the other boy took off at a trot.

"Ah. That means you're Hayao." Yuuta looked over the collection of girls. "Hm, lucky things, they take after Ann and not Shuusuke. I'd introduce you, Koujirou, but I honestly couldn't tell you which one is which."

"I'm sure someone will sort it out for you later," Saeki replied, amused by the collection of variously beady and frankly curious stares.

Yuuta shrugged, and paid the drover for his time. The man grinned, and wished them luck, before rolling away.

The noise of the cart had barely died away when the front door of the house opened, and a woman came hurrying down the steps. She was dressed in sober black, and her face was more lined than it had been in her portrait, but she was still recognizable. "Yuuta!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "It really _is_ you!"

"Shuusuke got tired of nagging me to visit," Yuuta told her, grinning crookedly. "So here I am."

"And high time, too." Ann turned warm eyes on Saeki. "And who is this?"

"Saeki Koujirou, ma'am," he introduced himself, with a bow.

Ann's eyes widened in surprise. "I see. Kippei's letters spoke very highly of you. It's a pleasure to meet you." She stopped and shook herself. "Look at me, keeping you out here in the sun! Come in, come in!" She shooed them indoors, chattering away. "I sent Yuuto off to find your mother, Yuuta, so she'll be down any minute. My goodness, I'm sure she thought she'd never see you home again."

"Overwhelming, isn't she?" Yuuta whispered to Saeki, as Ann turned her attention to the servants, giving orders to go fetch the trunks still outside, and prepare rooms for the unexpected guests.

"A bit," Saeki agreed.

"Yuuta!" An older woman, led by Yuuto, came sweeping out of a side hall, brushing through the crowd of staring servants and wide-eyed children to fold her arms around Yuuta.

"Hello, Mother," Yuuta said, stooping to embrace her. "I happened to be in the area..."

Laughing and crying at the same time, she shook him. "Oh, you horrible boy," she said. "How _could_ you stay away for so long?"

Ann touched Saeki's shoulder, drawing his attention away from the reunion. "I trust you'll be staying with us?" she murmured, softly.

"Ah... yes," he said, awkward, wondering if it was presumptuous of him.

"Wonderful," she murmured. "I have so many questions for you... that is, if you don't mind?"

"Of course not," he assured her.

"What's all this commotion?" a stern voice boomed, and the hall went quiet.

Saeki had never seen Yuuta's spine snap so straight. "Father," he said, to the man standing at the head of the staircase.

The man stared, and then his face broke out into a grin so like Yuuta's own that it was uncanny. "Well, I'll be damned!" He came bounding down the steps. "Finally come home, have you?"

"It was time," Yuuta said, awkwardly, relaxing only marginally.

"'It was time,' he says!" Yuuta's father clapped a hand on Yuuta's shoulder. "It's good to see you, boy." He turned sharp grey eyes on Saeki. "And now what sort of stray have you brought home this time?"

_Stray?_ Saeki wasn't sure he quite liked the sound of that.

Yuuta drew himself up even straighter. "This is Koujirou," he said, softly. "Koujirou, my parents, Fuji Shuuichi and Yukari."

Saeki squared his shoulders a little under their scrutiny. "I'm pleased to finally meet you," he said, all the while keeping half an eye on Yuuta.

Yuuta's father grinned again, huge and delighted. "It's about time you settled down, boy," he said, and seized Saeki's hand, shaking it vigorously. "Welcome, welcome! Any friend of my son's is a friend of mine."

"Doubt you'd say that if you'd known Akutsu," Yuuta muttered, but he was relaxing, so Saeki could let himself relax a little, too.

"What was that, dear?" Yukari asked.

Yuuta shook his head. "A long story."

"Is there any other kind?" she asked, smiling. "Especially since you didn't bother to write?"

"Sorry, Mother," Yuuta told her, and Saeki stared, not quite sure whether he could bring himself to believe that he was seeing actual _meekness_ from Yuuta.

Ann clapped her hands together. "Why don't we get the boys settled, and then let Yuuta tell us this long story?" she suggested.

_Boys?_ Saeki's brain echoed, but Yukari was already in motion, clucking directions to servants to take their trunks upstairs, chattering at Yuuta—"We'll put you in the grey rooms, dear, I hope you don't mind, but Sayuri has your old room"—and scolding her grandchildren for being underfoot, all without pausing for breath. Before he quite knew it, he and Yuuta had been swept upstairs and into a set of rooms that were entirely too fine for Saeki's tastes, and a series of servants were moving in and out with their belongings.

Saeki edged closer to Yuuta, surreptitiously. "Your sister-in-law isn't the only one who's overwhelming," he muttered to Yuuta.

"Tell me about it," Yuuta muttered back. "Let's clear the servants out and use the bedsheets to make a rope."

"Don't tempt me," Saeki told him. "...what are they doing?"

Yuuta huffed. "Mother has a prejudice against dirt," he said, as a pair of servants lugged in a hip bath, followed by a series of servants with pitchers full of water. "So guess."

Saeki ran a hand through his hair, suddenly self-conscious. "...wish you'd told me your family was stupidly rich."

"I was trying to forget," Yuuta sighed. He looked at Saeki, sidelong. "We could have a rope made in no time."

"_Please_ don't tempt me."

* * *

As tempting as escape via sheets-and-window was, they didn't run, and Yuuta showed him the way downstairs to where the entire family was waiting in Yukari's parlor. Yuuta's nieces and nephews were wide-eyed and curious about their heretofore unknown uncle, and the adults all had questions for him, from Yukari's "Why did you go?" to Shuuichi's "What have you been doing?" and Ann's blunter "And why are you back now?"

Yuuta sighed, fending off their questions, and said, "I may as well start at the beginning," and launched himself into an accounting of the past decade and a half.

Most of the story was as new to Saeki as it was to the rest of them, so he listened with interest, and noted the pauses and the hitches as Yuuta told it. Yuuta was giving them the expurgated version, he decided, and Yuuta only confirmed it for him when he glossed over the _Heron_'s rum-running and spying as "a little of this, and a little of that."

"Did you ever run into any pirates?" one of the girls interrupted to ask, eyes gleaming with an unwholesome interest in the subject.

"A few," Yuuta said, and tilted his head at Saeki. "That's where Koujirou comes in."

Saeki found himself taking over the story to give Yuuta's voice a rest, and told how pirates had taken the _Otohime_, and how lucky he'd been that the _Heron_ had rescued him. The telling went quickly—there was no way to explain his own bewilderment, without telling about what the _Heron_ had been doing, and it came out sounding like Yuuta had made the decision to chase the _Rose_ without any help to rely on.

"It was lucky for you that Shuusuke was there to pick up the pieces, eh?" Shuuichi asked, but his laughter didn't do much to cover up what Saeki judged was a genuine strain of fear. "You'll have to leave the pirate-hunting to the professionals now."

Saeki bit down on the inside of his cheek, hard, as Yuuta nodded his head and gravely agreed, "Yes, I suppose I'll have to."

* * *

Later, safe in their rooms, Saeki looked at Yuuta. "I say we make that rope now."

Yuuta let himself fall backward onto the bed, and sighed. "Can't. Shuusuke ordered me to stay here until his next leave."

Saeki kicked his boots off, and crawled into bed with him. "You know when that's going to be?"

"Could be months. Years. I don't know, and he didn't say."

"Shit." Saeki moved closer.

"You don't have to stay," Yuuta began, but stopped himself when Saeki raised himself up on an elbow and glared at him. "Well, you _don't_. Unless you want to."

"I want to," Saeki said, firm. "So shut up."

Yuuta's laugh was a little short, but he wound his arm around Saeki anyway. "Have I ever told you that you're crazy?"

"Mm, not lately." Saeki rested his head on Yuuta's shoulder, and decided it was time to change the subject. "Sounded to me like you left a lot out of your story, today."

"Was it that obvious?"

Saeki snorted, and slid his arm around Yuuta. "Only to someone who knows you. Tell me the parts that you left out."

"I left out a lot," Yuuta murmured. "It could take a while."

"What do we have, if we don't have time?" Saeki argued.

"Hmph." But after a moment, Yuuta began the story again, filling in the rest of the details, until Saeki drifted to sleep, lulled by the soft rise and fall of his voice. He continued it the next night, and the next, until he came to the morning that they'd seen a column of smoke rising on the horizon, and he'd changed the _Heron_'s heading to go investigate.

"Did I ever say thank you for that?" Saeki asked, sleepily, once Yuuta's voice trailed off.

Yuuta's frame shook with near-silent laughter. "No, you didn't."

"Oops." Saeki stretched himself to place a soft kiss under Yuuta's jaw. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Yuuta said, drawing him closer.

Maybe it wasn't quite the whole story, even then, but Yuuta was like that, and if there were still things he needed to keep private, Saeki thought, he could live with that.

* * *

Once his mother could bear to let him out of her sight again—it took several days—Yuuta began taking Saeki over his family's grounds. It was, Saeki thought, as Yuuta pointed out the tree he'd climbed and then promptly fallen out of ("Bashed my head right open, and I still have the scar, see?"), halfway between a guided tour and a reunion between Yuuta and his childhood. He followed along obediently, watching Yuuta and listening to the things he didn't say as he pointed out the fort he'd had (now firmly in the possession of his nephews).

It was obvious that the Yuuta he knew didn't fit into the genteel family mode. As Yuuta stopped himself from telling his most colorful stories, and bit off curses on a regular basis, and told him about scrape after childhood scrape ("And this is where they caught me fighting with—fuck, what was his name, anyway?"), he began to wonder whether Yuuta ever had.

He woke early one morning, only to find that Yuuta had slipped out of bed and was dressing in the grey light. "Where're you going?"

"To see if something's still there where I left it." Yuuta's voice was hushed, and he leaned over the bed to ruffle Saeki's hair. "Go back to sleep."

"Mmf." But it was no good; he was awake. "You want company? Or not?"

"I'd like to show you," Yuuta said. "If you want to come, that is."

Saeki hid his smile at Yuuta's diffidence by yawning, and climbed out of bed. "I guess I'll come along."

"Then hurry up and get dressed," Yuuta ordered, already tugging on his boots.

"Working on it," Saeki said, pulling on his clothes between yawns, and then struggling into his boots. He'd barely got them on before Yuuta was moving, leading them out into the hall, down the back stairs and then outdoors, where the air was still cool and the dew was heavy on the grass.

Yuuta hurried them along, silent, as the world began to stir—sky gradually lightening in the east and birds beginning to chirp sleepily—through the kitchen garden and along a path, then across a pasture without a path at all, where the long grass soaked them to their knees.

Saeki quashed an urge to ask where they were going—the early-morning stillness precluded idle chatter—and followed Yuuta into a patch of woodland as the sky turned gold. Yuuta pushed along through the trees and undergrowth, showing Saeki the way without speaking, and then they were through the trees and in a clearing with a small pond on the far side of it.

"Here," Yuuta said, and stopped.

Saeki stopped too, and looked around. "...here?"

"Yeah." As the sky turned brighter, Yuuta pointed. "Look."

Saeki followed Yuuta's pointing finger to the pond, not sure what he was looking for, when a shape moved in the reeds—a bird, tall and stately, and then another moved.

Yuuta's sigh was deeply contented.

"What are they?" Saeki asked, keeping his voice quiet.

"Herons," Yuuta told him. "I used to come watch them all the time after Yumiko showed them to me..."

"They're beautiful," Saeki said, watching them move across the shallows of the pond.

"Yeah. Always remembered them, and wondered if they were still here." Yuuta's voice was distant. "It's funny. They were one of the things I missed the most."

"Mm." Saeki looked away from the birds to Yuuta, and asked the question he'd been wondering for days. "Why did you—" Run away "—leave?"

Yuuta watched the herons silently for a long time before he answered. "I told you that Yumiko raised me," he said. "She almost had to. Mother entertained—still does, I'm sure—and I didn't like my governesses, which didn't leave anyone else to do it." His gaze had turned inward. "I suppose she spoiled me. Let me do what I wanted, as long as I didn't cause too much serious trouble. And then... she got married."

Saeki made a soft sound, encouraging.

" I still wouldn't have anything to do with governesses." Yuuta shook his head. "I won't tell you how many I terrorized. Mother had to take me over, since she couldn't find anyone who would keep a place with us. Neither of us had an easy time of it. I wasn't nearly as well-behaved as Shuusuke, and I was stubborn to boot, and my temper... eh."

"The more things change..." Saeki murmured.

Yuuta's smile was dark. "Hah. You think I'm bad _now_. You didn't know me then."

"Saints preserve us."

Yuuta snorted. "In any case... it was a hard year. And then Yumiko..." He trailed off. "I'm sure you could get Mother to tell you how horrible I was after that. I just couldn't stand it." He rubbed his forehead. "I very nearly wasn't allowed to attend Shuusuke's wedding, for fear I'd spoil the whole thing. Except that I knew he'd kill me if I did, so I promised to behave. Good thing I did, too. I doubt I'd have met Kippei, otherwise." Yuuta went quiet. "He was... so strong. And so calm, even though the rest of the world was fussing around him... I think I must have fallen in love on the spot. When he left to go back to his ship, I followed him."

Saeki's thoughts tripped over that, and when they picked themselves up again, had formed new patterns. So Tachibana hadn't just been a captain to Yuuta, but a lover as well. "That explains a lot," he managed, a trifle weakly.

Yuuta looked away from the herons to give him a tilted smile. "Does it?"

"Definitely." No wonder Yuuta had wanted Yukimura's head so damn badly. No wonder Yuuta was the man he was. _Everything_ made more sense now.

"Mm." Yuuta looked back at the herons. "Kippei was one of the best things that have ever happened to me. I would have smothered if I'd stayed here."

Saeki thought that over and concluded that he was probably right. "Your parents seem very... nice," he allowed. "You're... not." Passionate, strong, and honorable in a way that was peculiarly Yuuta, but not nice, and hardly respectable.

Yuuta laughed. "No, I'm not. Thanks for noticing."

"I could be deaf, blind, and dumb, and I'd still notice that," Saeki said, grinning. "Oh—"

The herons, disturbed by their laughter, were spreading their wings and taking to the air.

Yuuta watched them, and exhaled slowly. "Just like I remembered," he said. After a moment, he turned to go back to the house.

"Thanks for showing me," Saeki said, falling into step with him.

Yuuta grinned over his shoulder. "My pleasure."

They didn't say anything else on the walk back. Yuuta seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, and Saeki was wondering what he might be able to do to keep Yuuta from smothering in the time it would take for Fuji's leave to bring him home.

* * *

The days passed slowly, turning into weeks, spring deepened into summer without any word from Fuji, and Saeki became _very_ familiar with all the ways there were to stave off the monotony of boredom on a country estate.

The weeks turned into months, and Saeki began to wonder whether Fuji was ever going to come home. Yuuta grew restless, and Saeki found himself dreaming of the sound of wind blowing through a ship's rigging, and the slap of the waves against a hull.

And they waited, until one evening, Yuuta had sighed one time too many, and Saeki's patience came to an end. "That's it," Saeki announced. "I've had it." He marched over to the window, unhooked the latch, and threw it open.

"...beg pardon, Koujirou?" Yuuta asked, pausing in the act of tugging his collar loose.

Saeki leaned out the window. "How many sheets do you think we'll have to tear up to make a rope?" he asked, eyeing the distance to the ground. They were only a floor up, which was probably a good thing.

"What in the hell are you talking about?" Yuuta asked, and he looked confused when Saeki turned around.

"We have been here for three months, Yuuta," Saeki said, speaking slowly so that he could be sure that Yuuta was following along. "We're getting fat and lazy, and I miss the ocean, and so do you, damn it. Neither of us belongs here, so let's _go_."

"Don't tempt me, Koujirou," Yuuta said, with a wry tilt to his grin. "I might just take you up on that offer."

Saeki snorted. "That was the point," he said, pulling the heavy duvet off the bed, and beginning to strip the sheets off. After a moment, he looked up to see Yuuta staring at him. "What?"

Yuuta hesitated. "My God. You're serious, aren't you?"

"Completely serious," Saeki agreed, holding up a sheet and eyeing it critically. "Tell you what. You write the letter to your mother, apologizing for this, and I'll get started on the rope." The fine cotton made a satisfyingly _loud_ rip as he tore off the first strip. "And then you can pack."

"Why do _I_ have to pack?" Yuuta protested, starting to smile.

"Because I'm making the rope," Saeki told him, and tore off another strip, wondering if his grin looked as gleeful as it felt. When Yuuta still hadn't moved, he looked up from the destruction he was wreaking. "Well, go _on_. It's a three-mile walk into town, remember? We haven't got all night."

Yuuta crossed the room in three quick strides, and leaned down, kissing Saeki. "God, Koujirou," he breathed. "What would I do without you?"

Saeki grinned up at him. "Be miserable, I expect," he said, perfectly cheerful. "Now, get to work."

"Aye, sir," Yuuta said, throwing him a lazy salute and making for the desk.

An hour of work later, it occurred to Saeki (as he was halfway down their makeshift rope, which was beginning to creak alarmingly under his weight) that they could have just as easily packed the bundle of clothes and money and snuck out of the house by way of the stairs, although they lacked a certain panache. He snorted at the thought, and shimmied down the rope a little faster, dropping the last few feet to the ground.

"Ready?" Yuuta, a dim shape next to him, whispered.

Saeki smiled at him, even though it was probably lost in the dark. "Yeah. Let's go."

A rough hand found its way into his, and Yuuta tugged him forward, into what was left of the night.

On the whole, he decided, there was no place he'd rather be.


	10. Chapter 10

**Epilogue**

_Some months later._

Saeki left off admiring the sleek lines of the navy ship moored in the harbor (the _Naismith_ by name, if he squinted) to get down to the business of finding a ship in need of an extra pair of deckhands. The docks were busy enough that, as Yuuta had said, they'd probably come up with enough options to choose from.

He ambled along the docks, absorbed in looking the ships over, and nearly jumped out of his skin when someone draped an arm around his shoulders. "You really need to watch where you're going, Sae."

"Bane?" Saeki said, staring at him. "What in the hell are you doing here?"

"I see you've picked up some of the captain's good manners." Davide fell in on his other side, grinning.

Saeki looked at the two of them, and then at the harbor, blankly. "...where's the _Dragonfly_?" he asked, after he'd reassured himself that Fuji's ship was nowhere in evidence.

Bane snorted. "She's in for some repairs, so we sailed in with another ship."

"Huh." At least he wasn't going blind. Saeki tried to shrug Bane's arm off his shoulder; Bane kept it there. "Any openings in your crew?"

"There might be," Davide grinned. He looked around. "So where's himself?"

There was only one person that could mean. "Yuuta's around here somewhere," Saeki said. "Looking for a ship."

Davide and Bane exchanged looks. "Lucky for you that we found you, then," Davide said.

"Let's go find the captain, and then we can talk," Bane added.

That seemed reasonable enough to Saeki, so he let the two of them steer him along. They found Yuuta on the other end of the docks, deep in negotiations with the master of a trading vessel. He didn't see them coming, until Davide tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, Captain?"

"Not now, Davide, I'm—Davide?" Yuuta spun around. "What in God's name are you doing here?"

"Killing a little time," Davide said, easily. "Hear you're looking for a ship?"

"Might be," Yuuta told him, grinning. "Why?"

"We know someone you might want to talk to," Bane said.

Yuuta smiled. "Do you, now?" He turned to the man he'd been talking with, and excused himself. When they were a bit away from him, he tipped his head at the two of them. "So tell me more."

"Think he's still eating breakfast," Davide said. "We can go and talk to him right now, if you want."

"Sounds good," Yuuta said. Davide and Bane exchanged looks again, and led them along, away from the docks. "Take it the _Dragonfly_ didn't suit the two of you?"

"Eh, it was fine. Fuji isn't you, though. Good captain, but not what we were used to," Davide said. "Ah, here we go..." He steered them into a tavern, and directed them to the table in the back corner. "Found something for you, sir."

"Well, _shit_," Yuuta muttered, as his brother gave him a distinctly unhappy look.

"What part of 'Go home and stay put until I get there,' was so difficult to understand?" Fuji demanded.

"The part about 'until I get there,'" Yuuta sighed, dropping into the open seat across from him.

"I should have known," Fuji said, over the rim of his teacup. "Tell me that this time, at least, you said your goodbyes properly?"

Yuuta pursed his lips. "The note was a little bit more eloquent."

"_Yuuta_." Fuji sounded disapproving, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Forget you ever saw me and let the two of us go?" Yuuta suggested.

"I'm afraid that's out of the question," Fuji murmured.

"Well, damn." Yuuta ran a hand through his hair. "So where the hell's your ship, anyway?"

"Docked for repairs in the navy's yard," Fuji said. "Nothing major, of course, but it was time."

"Huh." Yuuta folded his arms. "So that navy ship out there is yours now?"

"Not exactly." Fuji sighed, and put his cup down. "I hope you know that you upset a great many people when you took off, Yuuta."

Saeki cleared his throat. "Ah. It wasn't entirely his idea," he said. "In fact, it pretty much wasn't his idea at all."

Fuji raised an eyebrow. "No? And here I'd hoped you'd be a stabilizing influence on him." He shook his head. "I suppose I should have known better."

"Yeah, you should have," Yuuta scoffed. "So. You've got us. What are you going to do with us?"

"Tezuka," Fuji said thoughtfully, "was all in favor of a court martial. Lucky for you, I talked him out of his temper, and we came to a compromise, of sorts."

"What kind of compromise?" Yuuta asked, warily.

"Oh, I expect you'll find you can live with it," Fuji said. "The navy does want you where it can keep an eye on you, of course. I have your orders with me somewhere..." He reached into his coat and pulled out a wallet. "I'd planned something more elaborate than this." He rifled through it, and flipped a packet at Yuuta. "Here."

Yuuta caught it. "What is it?" he asked, cracking the seal and unfolding the papers.

"Something you'll like."

Yuuta gave him a suspicious look. "You _say_ that..." He scanned the papers; Saeki saw him go still. "Shuusuke. You _didn't_."

"I did." Fuji's smile was smug. "Not that it took that much doing."

"What is it?" Saeki asked.

Yuuta passed the papers to him, wordless. Saeki read the first few lines, and realized that he was holding the commission for the command of the _Naismith_. "...holy shit." When he looked up, Davide and Bane were wearing grins just as smug as Fuji's.

"Told you that it was lucky you'd run into us," Davide told him.

"Shuusuke—" Yuuta began, waving his hands.

Fuji arched an eyebrow. "You wouldn't be thinking of turning it down, would you? There's always the court martial instead."

Yuuta opened and closed his mouth. "Of course not! I'm not that kind of crazy."

Fuji laughed. "I hadn't thought you were."

"Hmph." Yuuta settled back in his chair, grinning. "_You_ might be, though, if you're going to let me have that ship." A thought occurred to him. "Does this mean I can poach my crew back from you now?"

"Most of them," Fuji said. He coughed. "Shishido has taken command of his own ship, I'm afraid, so you're down a first mate." He smiled. "Fortunately for you, I took care of that, too."

"You did?"

"...he did," Saeki said, a bit weakly, and handed him the _other_ piece of paper that had been in the packet—an officer's commission, in the name of one Saeki Koujirou.

Yuuta looked at it, and then up at his brother. "...I don't know what to say."

"Try 'thank you,'" Davide suggested.

Yuuta laughed. "Yeah, that works. Thank you, Shuusuke."

Fuji grinned. "My pleasure, little brother. Try not to sink this one, hm?"

"Like I would," Yuuta snorted, stroking reverent fingertips over his commission. "Are you done eating yet?"

"I was thinking of another cup of tea, actually." Fuji waited a moment, and then laughed at his brother's expression. "Of course I'm done. Let's go take a look at your ship, shall we?"

Yuuta grinned. "Hell, yeah." He stood and nudged Saeki. "You coming, Mr. First Officer?"

Saeki grinned at him, slow and dazed. "Yeah," he said. "Wouldn't miss it."

**The End**


End file.
